#hong kong sixes

[izuke-the-zombie]

This is a little head cannon/What if Macaque had more original powers, a little more Starry Night dreamlike powers leaning into the more nurturing kind, you know, the moon and sun kind of powers? 🌙☀️

 

Maybe in the past, he was like a therapy friend to Wukong, someone he could really be himself with, vent, and tell his secrets without being judged in the safety of his own dreams. Someone he can truly trust, and that was Macaque.

Skip to Redemption Ark for Mac

Now he's a therapy friend to the whole MK team! (Against his will) They cuddle, pet, and vent to him with their problems. He's like one of Sandy's therapy cats, just bigger and grumpier.😾💕✨ he just has this way with people I guess

Okay, this is how it starts: Macaque and Wukong's first encounter was in a dream.

Wukong would not shut up about the pretty demon in his crazy dreams, often to his sworn brothers; he talked about all the fun and crazy adventures he'd have, the long meaningful conversations and jokes, and the occasionally moving pictures of otherworldly strong magical humans with sparkly eyes and spiky hair who wield giant weapons that shoots Fire called anime, and that this had been going on for a few months now.

This annoyed and concerned them; they think it's a demon trying to take over the Monkey King's mind or trying to brainwash him somehow, so Azure Lion and the Sworn Brothers all brainstormed together to devise a plan to somehow confront this tricky dream demon. Wukong doesn't want the fun dreams to end or scare off this other celestial monkey, so he decides to talk to his friend in his dreams. Wukong casually brings up the idea that the macaque should visit Flower Fruit and meet his sworn brothers! Macaque of course hesitates, not sure of the idea of traveling to an unknown island and meeting The Monkey King's questionable choice of sworn brothers, but of course, Wukong, sad and a bit offended, but he doesn't give up.

He decides to bring upon the Ultimate Weapon, begging and whining until Macaque crumbles and gives in, which eventually does. Mac reluctantly agrees to travel over to FFM in disguise, just to be safe he tells Wukong he'll be there. Within a month, Wukong couldn't be more excited; he was like a little kid waiting for Christmas day!

So this is what kinds of powers I think he should have.

😴 the first pic is crossing over to other people's dreams and making their experience life-like he has illusion magic so this makes sense to me. Wukong and macaque would prank the Brotherhood or play tags and hide and seek in their brother's dreams. 🌸The second pic is the soothing ability to calm one's nerves if they pet or cuddle him like a therapy cat,🐈 Wukong would groom him for hours to calm his nerves. now come copes with food🍑🍔🍭

🌸🎶I saved the best one for last the cute/sad little head Cannon I have

At the end of every dream Mac visits they would end it by dancing to music Mac would bring from the future laughing and stumbling while wukong slowly wakes up, wukong has always gone to bed early But now he goes even earlier to bed. Wukong always thought he was the luckiest monkey in the world he gets to have two Adventure and one of them is with his prettiest best friend Macaque 😚✨the monkey of his dreams.

🌸 Wukong couldn't truly dream of a world without his bestest friend🥰✨

[scrumptiousstuffs]

For @khaopybara - not sure whether we can see 6-pack or not, but Khao does look mighty fine in that white beater and cropped white jacket (also, the boys’ tiny waist)

Only Friends Fanmeeting Hong Kong

Credit on the photos

15/06/2024

[hws-lceland]

Sorry this took me waaay too long. I kept getting distracted Canada’s design was based off @beilschmidting‘s design!

[ekhel01]

Hong Kong Sixes 2024: India's Predicted Squad For Hong Kong Cricket Sixes

India's squad for Hong Kong Cricket Sixes is here! Led by Ruturaj Gaikwad, ready for action! 🏏🔥

[thedensworld]

Forever His | C.Sc

Pairing: Seungcheol x reader

Genre: fluff, angst, slightly smut

Words Count: 3,5K

Summary: You found out that Seungcheol was marrying you for your property and wealth while you're pregnant with his child. What would you do? Let him go or play a fool?

Seungcheol growled in anger upon hearing several hurried knocks on his bedroom door well past midnight. Inside, he held you close, releasing all the pent-up affection from his business trip. Your face blushed from the intimate activity, your lips plumped, and Seungcheol was the reason behind it all. Initially oblivious to the noise, you regained your senses when he suddenly stopped and questioned him, "Why?"

Seungcheol sighed, his lips peppering a gentle kiss on your forehead. He whispered, "I'm sorry," before continuing, "get dressed. Don't want anyone to see you like this," accompanied by another peck on your shoulder. You observed him donning a robe before rising to walk to your closet to get dressed. It had been a week since you last saw him during his business trip to Hong Kong, and he immediately reveled in the moment upon his return.

You understood the frustration etched on his face as he headed to the door, reprimanding his assistant whom he had just seen a few hours ago—more than he had seen you all week. Despite the interruption, you decided not to retake your shower, opting for minimal clothing just in case the interrupted moment could be resumed. Wrapped in your robe, you lay on the bed with a tablet in hand, patiently awaiting your husband's return while attempting to mentally prepare for the upcoming workday.

It had been a year since you met Seungcheol, and you had been married for six months. People remarked that you two were still in the honeymoon phase, a sentiment you couldn't deny. The longest time apart was a mere week, and when you were both home, the opportunity for intimacy was ever-present—bed, kitchen, home office, or even the car. Seungcheol cared little about the location as long as he could be close to you, witnessing your pleasure, and hearing you moan his name, a source of immense satisfaction and ego boost for him.

After nearly half an hour since your shared intimacy was interrupted, Seungcheol entered the bedroom, and you welcomed him with a smile, setting aside your device as he approached. However, your joy was short-lived as he dropped a bombshell— an urgent matter required his immediate attention, shattering the serene moment.

His apology hung in the air, and you gazed into his eyes, almost whispering, "Can't it wait until tomorrow?" His gaze met yours, and he replied, "I'm sorry, but everyone needs me." The weight of his words settled, and you nodded, offering him a kiss. He whispered a goodnight and covered you with a blanket.

As he prepared to leave, he assured you, "I'm going. If you need anything, Eunji is downstairs, okay?" The deep kiss on your forehead lingered, leaving you with a mix of understanding and a touch of loneliness as he walked away, duty calling him away from the warmth of your shared moments.

As you sat in your office, a sense of solitude crept in as hours passed without any news from Seungcheol. Reflecting on your father's words, "A big power would come with a big responsibility, Y/n," you realized the weight of the responsibilities that came with leading two prominent companies. You, as the director of Seri Corps, and Seungcheol, the owner of a property investment company dealing with hotels, apartments, residences, and department stores, found little time to break away from the demanding roles.

The constant influx of work surrounded your thoughts, echoing your father's wisdom. You yearned for a moment to confront Seungcheol's assistant, Kim Mingyu, about easing the workload on your husband. Simultaneously, you knew Seungcheol harbored similar thoughts about Myungho, your secretary.

Seungcheol's suggestion of taking a break from work and starting a family lingered in your mind. "How about a little break from work? It might end up with a cute baby like you..." he had expressed his desire to build a family since the early days of your marriage.

Initially hesitant, thoughts swirled in your mind. Could you be ready to be a mother? Your upbringing without a mother made you wary, but Seungcheol had gradually changed your perspective. His love, support, and dreams of a family with you had softened your reservations. You found yourself yearning for the joy of building a family with Seungcheol, confident that he would be an exceptional father, creating a world of happiness for your future children.

After a lengthy discussion with Seungcheol about starting a family, you took the decision to visit your ob-gyn and began the journey towards pregnancy. For the past three months, you had gradually reduced your workload, entrusting responsibilities to your younger brother, Lee Chan, while actively trying to conceive with your husband. Unbeknownst to Seungcheol, you had already been pregnant for four weeks, and the only person privy to this news was Myungho, your ever-attentive secretary.

Myungho had been a pillar of support, ensuring your well-being by sending nutritious meals and a glass of pregnancy milk to your desk every morning. He also exhibited consideration for your workload, making efforts to send you home before 6. This morning, upon entering the office, you found Myungho had prepared your favorite breakfast from a beloved restaurant, lifting your spirits from the previous night's glum mood.

Despite your gratitude, you declined Myungho's offer to check an anonymous file that had been delivered to you. As you enjoyed your meal, you informed him that you'd arrange for your own transportation home and would call upon Eunji, the bodyguard Seungcheol had assigned to you.

"Just in case," Seungcheol explained when he was questioned about the need for a bodyguard, triggering memories of a near altercation when you initially resisted the idea. You asserted your ability to protect yourself, having learned jiu-jitsu and basic shooting. However, that night, Seungcheol revealed a hidden compartment beside your bed containing a gun. Holding your wrists firmly, he calmly stated, "I'm not doing this because you're a woman, but because you're my woman," emphasizing his commitment to your safety.

*

"Are we heading home, mam?" Eunji inquired, her gaze alternating between the road and the rearview mirror, noting the exhaustion etched on your face. Concerned, she questioned you about it.

"Just tired, thanks for asking. Yes, we're going home, please," you replied with a smile, appreciating Eunji's thoughtful gesture. Myungho, attentive to the shifting atmosphere, was about to join the conversation, sensing your unease.

"I'm okay, Secretary Seo. You should go home," you reassured him before closing the car door, leaving Myungho behind as the car set off for your house.

Looking out the window, your reflection mirrored the complex emotions brewing within you. As you questioned Eunji about your husband's whereabouts, her lips tightened, emphasizing her reluctance to share such information.

You hadn't received any news from Seungcheol today, a departure from the usual routine. While you recognized the demands of his busy schedule, today was different; a yearning for his comforting presence intensified, especially with the added vulnerability brought on by the pregnancy.

The familiar presence of threats was not new to you, but today brought a different kind of menace. A letter arrived this morning, accompanied by pictures and a USB. The images depicted Seungcheol in the company of an unidentified person, taken just hours after he left you the previous night. The revelation injected a new level of tension into an already uncertain day.

As you connected the USB, the file unfolded a chilling conversation between Seungcheol and his uncle, Choi Junggan. The revelation shook you to the core as they discussed plans to take control of Seri Department Store, a place with deep roots in your family history.

"We need her to hand you the Seri Department Store this year," Choi Junggan's voice declared, triggering disbelief and confusion within you. Seungcheol's voice, usually a source of comfort, uttered words that contradicted everything he had ever said to you.

Frozen in your car seat, you listened as Seungcheol acknowledged his role in the plan, vowing to gain your trust to further their hidden agenda. The shock reverberated through you, and doubts about the authenticity of your relationship took hold.

Arriving home, you rushed to your shared office, desperate to find evidence that would contradict the betrayal you had just uncovered. Each desk you searched only intensified the sinking feeling in your gut. Stumbling upon a hidden map and recalling the secret desk with a concealed gun, fear gripped you.

Questions raced through your mind—was Seungcheol planning something sinister? Was he preparing to harm you? The shivers intensified as you discovered a Memorandum of Understanding signed by your father and Seungcheol's father, outlining a deal that involved transferring the Seri Department Store to Seri Corps to settle debts. A chilling note from Seungcheol himself accompanied the document, vowing retribution for the suffering caused by Seri Corps.

The foundation of your trust crumbled as you grappled with the harsh reality that Seungcheol might have used you to fulfill a hidden agenda, driven by a desire for revenge against your family. The love and assurances you believed in were now clouded by a chilling revelation, leaving you in a state of shock and betrayal.

Click

In the sudden darkness, every creak of the floor beneath your cautious steps echoed through the house, a symphony of dread playing in the silence. The weight of the unknown assailant's presence hung heavily, suffocating the very air you breathed. Your trembling fingers fumbled for your phone, desperation rising as you attempted to call Eunji for help, but the device felt foreign and cumbersome in your anxious grip.

Before the call could connect, a vice-like grip clamped around you from behind, the cold edge of a knife pressing menacingly against your neck. Panic set in, and your mind raced through the horrifying possibilities of what this intruder might do. The chilling voice that whispered into your ear shattered any semblance of security, laying bare a sinister knowledge about your husband's actions.

"Have you found out about who your husband truly is?"

As you closed your eyes, you clung to a prayer for rescue, desperately hoping that someone, anyone, would come to your aid in this supposedly secure haven. The slight pain from the knife's pressure served as a cruel reminder of the peril you found yourself in, each second dragging like an eternity.

Summoning the courage to question the intruder, you choked out, "Who sent you?" The tightening grip around your neck conveyed a chilling refusal to answer, and the revelation hinted at a darker truth about Seungcheol, unraveling the very fabric of the reality you once believed in.

"The person who sent me wants the department store you have."

In a surreal twist, the lights flickered back on, momentarily blinding both you and your assailant. Seizing the opportunity, you instinctively flipped away from the unknown threat, your heart pounding in your ears as you sprinted towards the bedroom. The slam of the door, the metallic click of the lock, and the thudding of your own heartbeat created a cacophony of tension in the enclosed space.

As you sought the hidden gun, the room felt like a battleground, the seconds ticking away in sync with your frantic breaths. Dialing Myungho, your voice trembled with urgency, "Send police to my house, someone's trespassing and tried to hurt me!" The air became charged with a sense of impending danger as you awaited assistance, realizing that the sanctuary of your home had been shattered, leaving you vulnerable and exposed to a threat that had breached even the most intimate corners of your life.

*

Seungcheol's heart raced as he sped towards home, two police cars in tow. The tension in the air was palpable, and he exchanged a concerned glance with Kim Mingyu, who was navigating through the traffic while contacting the dispatcher for an alternative route. However, the gravity of the situation became evident when Mingyu's expression shifted, and their eyes met in the rearview mirror.

"They are heading to your house, sir," Mingyu relayed the alarming news.

Seungcheol's furrowed eyebrows betrayed his growing anxiety. "What do you mean?"

Mingyu swiftly removed his earpiece and pressed harder on the gas pedal. "Someone's trespassing your house and trying to hurt Mrs. Choi."

Upon arrival, Seungcheol rushed into the house, his senses heightened by the impending threat. The scene unfolded before him – you seated on the kitchen counter, Myungho tending to a wound on your neck, and police officers meticulously investigating the incident. The sight cut through Seungcheol like a knife, and his eyes locked onto yours as he approached.

Without a word, he enveloped you in his arms, a mixture of relief and concern etched across his face. The chaos in the house seemed to fade into the background as Seungcheol held you close, silently vowing to protect you from any harm that dared to breach the sanctuary you both called home.

Seungcheol's concern was evident as he gently inspected the wound on your neck, his expression softening in a mix of worry and tenderness. Faced with the undeniable proof of your vulnerability, he couldn't help but ask, "What did he do to you?"

A hesitant smile played on your lips as you replied, "So you know him..."

Myungho, ever considerate, discreetly stepped away, allowing the two of you a moment of privacy. Seungcheol's eyes remained fixed on yours, a silent acknowledgment of the tumultuous situation that had unfolded.

Pulling you into his protective embrace once again, Seungcheol's concern escalated into frustration. He directed his anger toward Mingyu, demanding to know why there wasn't proper security in place when the intrusion occurred. Mingyu bowed apologetically, promising to investigate the lapse.

As the commotion settled, Seungcheol engaged with the police officers, his anger simmering as he learned the details of the trespasser's actions. His insistence on swift justice was clear, emphasizing that whoever had harmed you should be held accountable.

Once the room cleared and additional security measures were put in place, Seungcheol finally had the chance to sit with you. As you handed him the file of the Department Store Ownership Transfer, a heavy silence filled the room. The shared understanding between you two spoke volumes, acknowledging the depth of the betrayal that had unfolded.

In that moment, the room held the weight of unspoken emotions, and Seungcheol's gaze lingered on you.

The room hung heavy with the weight of revelation as you confronted Seungcheol. The truth, once hidden in the shadows, now stood exposed, unraveling the carefully woven fabric of your marriage.

"He wants Seri Department Store," you mumbled, your arms crossed, standing defiantly before Seungcheol. Frustration radiated from you as you ran your hand through your hair, grappling with the gravity of the situation that had unfolded.

"My life," you paused, "was worth of that store!"

Seungcheol shook his head, attempting to deny the painful reality. "Baby, no..."

"Don't call me that! You had the same intention!" The words burst out from you, a sharp accusation that hung in the air. It was a yell, a rupture in the calm facade of your marriage.

"You've been lying to me..." your voice faded, replaced by hot tears streaming down your cheeks. The vulnerability you revealed was a stark contrast to the stoic persona you had been trained to adopt.

Seungcheol's throat went dry, words catching in the tangled web of emotions. He took a deep breath, his heart breaking as he witnessed you, the strong and composed figure, breaking down in front of him. Wiping your own tears away, you showed a side that was rarely seen by anyone.

In that moment, Seungcheol loathed himself for causing the tears and hated that he couldn't be the one to comfort you. "I never lied to you," he finally uttered, but the truth seemed feeble against the magnitude of the situation.

You threw a letter at him, a tangible representation of the deceit that had taken root. "Then what is it? You're trying to fool me by marrying me. You're into my property, Seungcheol."

Seungcheol's voice matched your intensity, "Yes, I was! But I've been delaying..." His tone softened, desperation lacing his words. "Because I fell for you, for real. And I've been trying to stop my uncle for the revenge."

The room echoed with Seungcheol's explanation, his vulnerability laid bare. This was a side of him you had never seen before, and in this moment, as he bared his soul, the fragile bridge between betrayal and redemption trembled in the air.

In that vulnerable moment, Seungcheol shed the facade of superiority and power that he often wore. Tonight, he laid bare his emotions, doing everything in his power to make you believe in the sincerity of his love for you.

"I'm aiming for a hotel abroad and offered him the condition that we won't involve anyone from Lee Family, from your family, including you. He agreed. But little did I know he had sent someone to hurt you." Seungcheol approached you, gently rubbing your arms before his hand traced the tender area on your neck.

"They hurt you," he declared with fiery intensity in his eyes. Seungcheol sighed, his chest filled with anger, and he closed his eyes, seeking solace in looking at your face. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry for everything."

Your hand caressed his cheek, and your lips met in a kiss that started calm and slowly transformed into something more passionate and charged with desire. As the kiss broke, leaving both of you gasping for air, his eyes opened, fixated on you.

"Promise me, this won't happen again," you whispered, and he immediately nodded. His lips sought yours again, but you playfully dodged, pulling your head away from him.

He looked at you with longing, whispering, "Baby..."

You licked your lips, making a demand, "Say that you love me."

"I love you," he replied without hesitation.

"Say that I'm more than that store." Your hands roamed to his stomach, then gradually went down to his hardness. Seungcheol groaned under your touch, "You're more than that, baby. You're worth the world," he whispered into your ear. His hands explored the warmth of your skin under your blouse, his member pressing against you.

"Can I take this off?" he asked, pulling the hem of your blouse. You nodded, and soon both of you stood there, stripped of the barriers that concealed your vulnerability.

He kissed your lips again, guiding your hands to his shoulders. "I love you, I love you so much." The words hung in the air, reaffirming the bond that transcended the complexities of the world outside.

*

Myungho entered your room, holding the file that contained detailed information about Choi Junggan, your husband's influential uncle who seemed to have a significant impact on Seungcheol's life since the passing of his parents.

"How about the guy who attacked me last night?" you inquired, your focus shifting from the file to Myungho. As you scanned Junggan's list of properties and business history, you nodded in acknowledgment, recognizing the extent of Junggan's influence on Seungcheol's business trajectory.

"Cops captured him. He hasn't said anything about the person who hired him. But it's definitely Choi Junggan. He's the only one who's into your property," Myungho revealed, shedding light on the tangled web of motives and alliances.

Seungcheol's revelation from the previous night suddenly made a lot more sense. While delving into the file Myungho had handed you, a realization struck you—the depth of Junggan's control over Seungcheol's life since the tragic loss of his parents when he was just a high schooler.

Understanding that Seungcheol, as the sole heir to his parents, had been manipulated by Junggan to make your family pay for something you were yet to uncover, you recognized that the only way to unveil the truth was by confronting the man himself. The file in your hands became a key to unraveling the intricate layers of a past that had been concealed for far too long.

"Could you do me a favor, Secretary Seo?" you inquired, and Myungho nodded politely, ready to assist. "What is it, Mrs. Choi?" he asked.

"Are you personally close to Kim Mingyu?" you questioned, prompting a quizzical expression from Myungho. He responded, "I guess, we regularly meet at the pub blocks away from your house."

A smile played on your lips as you outlined your request, "I need you to find out about the properties my husband has been eyeing recently, possibly around Hong Kong and Singapore. I need all the details."

Myungho, respecting your privacy, sought clarification, "May I know what this is for, ma'am?"

"I want to buy them first, before my husband could," you calmly stated, leaning back in your seat. Myungho noted the determination in your eyes and quickly understood that Choi Seungcheol had underestimated the strength he was up against.

After few hours, a familiar figure approached your office. Seungcheol, clearly agitated, entered the room after signaling Mingyu and Myungho to stay outside. Your eyes met, and you became aware that your husband, Choi Seungcheol, had an undeniable issue with anger. He took control of the switchable glass, making the room opaque, a move that intensified his presence. He looks so hot like this.

"I thought I made it clear this morning that you shouldn't be at work after what happened last night?" Seungcheol voiced his concern, frustration evident in his demeanor.

You nonchalantly replied, "I was safer here than in your house, Seungcheol," rising from your seat and approaching him.

Seungcheol sighed, massaging his temples, "Baby, please don't do anything."

Your hands gestured in confusion, "I don't do anything," you replied with a shrug.

Concerned about the dangers posed by his uncle, Seungcheol attempted to explain, "My uncle, he could be pretty dangerous."

Understanding his apprehension, you nodded, "He is. Great to hear that you and I are seeing him from the same boat."

Seungcheol stepped forward, gently grabbing your hand and placing it on his cheek. Closing his eyes, he savored the softness of your touch before pecking your hand. As he opened his eyes, a soft smile adorned his face.

"Trust me, please," he earnestly begged, "Trust me, baby. I'll take care of him."

You bit your lip, confessing, "I want to help you."

Seungcheol shook his head, "I don't want you to get hurt. You were almost... killed last night. I won't ever let that happen again."

You nodded, whispering, "I know," and offering him a reassuring smile.

Attempting to steer the conversation back to a professional tone, you asked, "What are you doing here, by the way?"

Seungcheol, catching the shift, followed suit, "I have a meeting scheduled with Mr. Lee. Surprised to learn that it wasn't you leading the meeting with investors."

Concerned for your well-being, he inquired, "Are you okay?"

You assured him with a nod and a quick response, "I'm totally fine. I have a business trip to attend; I'll be home pretty late tonight."

Seungcheol nodded in understanding, seeking more details, "Where to?"

With a calm smile, you disclosed, "Singapore."

*

"Okay, you got my attention now..." Junggan's voice resonated from the phone speaker as Myungho handed you his phone, subtly mouthing, "Choi Junggan."

You chuckled upon hearing his first words, "Great to know that. You started it first by sending a poor man into my house," you replied, gazing out the window at the nighttime view of Incheon as the plane descended.

Junggan's laughter echoed through the call, "What a feisty girl! Yeah, Seungcheol has captured him, hasn't he? He was honest when he said he loves you."

A smile touched your lips, "Why? Is it hurting you? That your 'one and only doll' finally betrayed you? He's not a doll, Choi Junggan. He's your nephew."

Junggan scoffed, getting straight to the point, "What do you want?"

"Stop controlling my husband, and I'll give you the hotel," you proposed, offering a straightforward agreement.

You could hear the old man laughing, "You really bought a hotel just for my nephew?"

You sighed, "He's not just your nephew; he's my husband."

A sly smile crept into Junggan's voice, "But his worth is more than a hotel, isn't he?"

You couldn't help but chuckle at his audacity. Even in this situation, with you acquiring properties he had his eyes on in Singapore, Junggan remained arrogantly composed. The negotiation had just begun, and it seemed like dealing with him would be a game of wit and strategy.

"A hotel and 3% of your department store shares?" Junggan negotiated in a sly tone.

"Here's the thing, Mr. Choi," you paused, "I actually want to give you the department store. I thought about that, honestly." You could sense his excitement at the prospect. "However, I don't think my late mother-in-law would be happy if I give her precious building to someone who has been very deceitful and manipulative toward her son, Mr. Choi," you continued, and your words resulted in a moment of silence.

A confident smile played on your lips; you knew you had him.

There was a pregnant pause before he asked, "How do you know?" in a tone that betrayed his vulnerable point—Seungcheol's mother, a person Junggan held very dearly in his heart.

"I have my sources," you said, "just like you have Eunji as your source."

Before the phone call could reach its conclusion, Myungho subtly indicated that it was time to go, as Seungcheol and your grandfather were eagerly awaiting you for a late dinner.

"You need to decide, Mr. Choi. Time is ticking," you said before decisively ending the call. The negotiation had just begun, and you felt a sense of satisfaction at holding the upper hand.

The starry night welcomed your landing at the international airport, and you were ready to disembark when Myungho suddenly announced that he had left an important file on his seat. He urged you to go ahead since your car was already waiting outside. Unusual for Myungho, who typically had other business to attend to, you signaled your new driver to head home immediately.

As you traversed the city streets, a notification alerted you to a text from Myungho. With a sigh, you muttered, "He won't ever let me rest," before opening the message. A shiver ran down your spine as Myungho requested that you inform Seokmin, one of Seungcheol's drivers, that Myungho would be waiting for him in his office since he couldn't reach him personally.

You put your phone down, inhaling a heavy sigh silently. Seokmin was assigned to drive you home, but whoever was behind the wheel of this car was certainly not Seokmin. You refrained from looking at him, sensing that he had been eyeing you through the rearview mirror. In response, you swiftly sent Myungho your location with a concise message:

"Send me help."

*

Seungcheol's heart raced as Mingyu delivered the alarming news of your kidnapping on the way home from the airport. His mind immediately pointed fingers at his own uncle, considering the recent threatening call and the ominous words echoing in his ears: "Betray me again, I'll let you know the consequence."

He had been cautious, attempting to shield you from the dangerous business involving Choi Junggan. However, your determination to help him and seek revenge had taken an unexpected turn. When Mingyu, panic-stricken, revealed that you had purchased the property intended for Seungcheol's uncle, the pieces fell into place. You aimed to confront Junggan directly.

Seungcheol had just spoken with his uncle an hour ago, and now the shocking news of your kidnapping left him reeling. It appeared Junggan had anticipated Seungcheol's plan, orchestrating a betrayal that ran deeper than Seungcheol initially thought. The threat wasn't just about revenge; it was a move calculated to protect his money laundering activities.

During Seungcheol's time as Junggan's assistant, he had diligently documented evidence of his uncle's illicit activities. Those notes and additional proof could be the leverage needed to finally put Junggan behind bars. As a mix of fear and determination surged through Seungcheol, he knew he had to act swiftly to save you and dismantle the dangerous web his uncle had woven.

As Seungcheol continued to make urgent calls to his lawyer, Mingyu updated him on the situation. The news of Seokmin found unconscious at the airport heightened the tension. Mingyu, sitting in the driver's seat, couldn't hide his frustration as he chuckled angrily. Your location, frozen for the past 10 minutes, signaled that the kidnappers might have discarded your phone.

"Myungho has informed the police to track your wife's location. They must have thrown her phone," Mingyu reported, the concern for your safety evident in his voice.

Seungcheol sighed, realizing the urgency of the situation. In a moment of clarity, he remembered placing a GPS on your wedding ring, a precaution due to your tendency not to update him about your whereabouts. Swiftly, he shared your latest location with Mingyu, who promptly relayed the information to Myungho and the authorities. The race against time had begun, and Seungcheol couldn't shake off the fear that gripped his heart, praying that they would reach you in time.

"Sir.."

Seungcheol's heartbeat quickened as Mingyu's revelation about Myungho having something important to share reached his ears. The car's atmosphere shifted into an air of tension, each passing second increasing Seungcheol's anxiety. Mingyu, with a look of concern on his face, executed the announcement with a gravity that made Seungcheol's gut twist.

As the speaker crackled to life, Myungho's voice trembled slightly, an unusual undertone of nervousness underscoring his usually composed demeanor. Seungcheol's instincts sharpened, sensing that whatever news was about to be delivered carried weight.

"Sir, I'm sorry for not telling you this before," Myungho began, the apologetic tone heightening the tension in the car. A heavy sigh punctuated the pause before he revealed the bombshell, "But your wife..."

The moment hung in the air, pregnant with unspoken implications. Seungcheol's mind raced, contemplating what revelation could follow, unaware that the news about to unfold would reshape the stakes of the impending rescue mission.

"She's pregnant."

Seungcheol's heart skipped a beat as the revelation about your pregnancy echoed through the speaker in the car. The gravity of the situation suddenly multiplied, intertwining the fear for your safety with the concern for the life growing inside you. The realization struck him like a lightning bolt, and for a moment, he felt a mix of emotions—fear, panic, and an overwhelming sense of responsibility.

Mingyu, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, glanced at Seungcheol with worry etched on his face. Seungcheol took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing thoughts.

"Myungho, I... Thank you for letting me know," Seungcheol finally responded, his voice carrying a mixture of shock and concern. The news added an extra layer of urgency to the already critical situation. The thought of you, pregnant and in danger, fueled his determination to bring you back safely.

"Let's focus on getting her safely," Seungcheol instructed, his tone more resolute. The drive to rescue you became not only a mission to save his wife but also an imperative to protect the life growing within you.

Opposite to the confidence in his words, Seungcheol's hands tightened on his phone. A sharp pang of guilt surging through him like a current. The revelation of your pregnancy, a joyous occasion under different circumstances, now bore the weight of his past actions. Learning that you hadn't shared this significant news with him triggered an ache in his chest, a feeling of betrayal intertwined with remorse.

As he absorbed the reality of your pregnancy, Seungcheol couldn't escape the haunting guilt that you might perceive his lack of knowledge as a testament to your distrust. He couldn't shake the notion that your choice to keep this life-altering secret from him was a consequence of the distrust seeded by his initial motives for marrying you. The revelation of his original intentions – driven by revenge against your family – added a layer of complexity to his guilt, a realization that his past deeds were casting a long shadow over your relationship.

The darkness of the night seemed to mirror the turmoil within Seungcheol's mind. He wanted to protect you, cherish you, and share in the joy of impending parenthood, but the ghosts of his actions stood as barriers between them. The weight of guilt pressed on him, magnified by the realization that your silence might be a form of self-preservation.

In the confined space of the car, the echo of Myungho's revelation resonated with Seungcheol's internal struggle. Your trust, or lack thereof, became a tangible force, a barrier he needed to dismantle. As he raced against time to rescue you, Seungcheol grappled with the urgency to bridge the emotional distance that had unwittingly grown between you. He yearned not just to save you physically but to rebuild the trust that now seemed more fragile than ever.

The phone rang, and Seungcheol's heart skipped a beat as he saw the caller ID – his uncle. Answering with a trembling hand, he braced himself for the chilling exchange that awaited him.

His uncle's voice, dripping with malevolence, cut through the silence of the car. "Seungcheol, my boy, I see you're on your way to retrieve your dear wife."

Seungcheol's grip on the phone tightened, his knuckles turning white. "Let her go, uncle. This ends tonight."

A sinister chuckle resonated through the line. "Oh, but my dear nephew, it's just the beginning. You see, you've been quite the disappointment, trying to dismantle my plans."

The image of you, bound and unconscious, flashed on Seungcheol's phone screen, and his breath caught in his throat. His uncle's voice continued, each word a venomous threat. "I've sent you a little preview of what's to come. A taste of the pain she'll endure unless you comply with my demands."

Seungcheol's jaw clenched, a mixture of fear and rage fueling his determination. "Enough of this, Junggan. I won't let you harm her any further. Tell me what you want."

His uncle reveled in the power he held. "Simple, my boy. You come alone, or she pays the price. I've arranged a charming little place for our reunion. You have twenty minutes, Seungcheol."

The connection severed, leaving Seungcheol with a chilling ultimatum. The car accelerated, racing against time, each passing second amplifying the desperation in his heart. The road blurred beneath the car's tires, mirroring the whirlwind of emotions raging within him.

In the dimly lit room where you were held captive, your unconscious form became a pawn in this deadly game. The timer ticked down, a countdown to a confrontation that would determine not only your fate but the unraveling of a family's twisted legacy.

Seungcheol arrived at the designated location, the eerie silence of the abandoned building sending a shiver down his spine. He motioned for everyone to stay back, keeping a solemn promise to Junggan, who had threatened unspeakable harm if he defied the rules. Mingyu stood by his side, holding back your team and Myungho as Seungcheol ventured into the decaying structure by himself.

The building exhaled a musty breath, its walls stained with the remnants of a dark past. Shadows danced ominously in the corners, and the creaking floorboards echoed through the desolate halls. The air hung heavy with tension, a palpable reminder of the impending confrontation.

As hedelved deeper into the labyrinthine structure, the distant sound of a knife being sharpened reached Seungcheol's ears. Each scrape against the blade reverberated through the corridors, amplifying the sinister ambiance of the place. The echoes seemed to mock him, a haunting reminder of the imminent danger that lurked in the shadows.

Your captor's sadistic preparation was evident, the chilling sounds intertwining with the apprehensive silence, painting a grim picture of the confrontation ahead. Seungcheol tightened his grip on the makeshift weapon he had grabbed on his way in, steeling himself for the horrors that awaited him within the dimly lit recesses of the old building.

In the eerie ambiance of the dilapidated building, Seungcheol cautiously followed the echoes of his uncle's cold welcome, each step a tense reminder of the impending confrontation. The air was heavy with anticipation as he approached the dimly lit room, the shadows casting an ominous backdrop to the unfolding drama.

As Seungcheol entered, the scene before him unveiled a tableau of despair. There you were, seated vulnerably on a worn-out chair, your eyes reflecting a mix of fear and relief at the sight of him. A masked figure, an ominous silhouette in the dim light, stood menacingly beside you, wielding a gleaming knife at your neck—a silent threat that echoed through the room.

Junggan, concealed in shadows, initiated the negotiation, his demands echoing with a sinister undertone. The metallic edge of the blade against your skin served as a cruel incentive for Seungcheol to heed his uncle's commands. A choice lingered in the air—sacrifice his empire or risk harm befalling you.

Seungcheol, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, dared to question his uncle's malevolence. "Why, Uncle? What satisfaction do you derive from causing such pain? Is revenge worth the torment you're inflicting?"

In response, Junggan unraveled a tapestry of resentment and bitterness. He confessed that his hatred stemmed from the belief that Seungcheol wasn't his son but the offspring of the brother who had allegedly stripped him of everything.

Seungcheol, eyes ablaze with a mixture of anger and desperation, couldn't fathom the depth of his uncle's resentment. "Is this the only way you see to settle your grievances, Uncle? To use me, to hurt her? What did she ever do to you?"

Junggan, his voice dripping with venom, responded with a sinister chuckle. "You've always been the pawn, Seungcheol. A pawn in my game for justice. Your existence is a constant reminder of what was taken from me."

As the masked figure tightened their grip on the knife, you winced, and Seungcheol's resolve solidified. "If it's revenge you seek, hurt me, not her. She has nothing to do with your vendetta."

A wicked smile played on Junggan's lips. "But that's where you're wrong, Seungcheol. She's entwined in this web of revenge just by being a part of your life. The Lee family took everything from me, and now, through you, I'll take everything from them."

Seungcheol's fists clenched, grappling with the reality of his uncle's malevolence. "There has to be another way, Uncle. We can find a resolution without resorting to this brutality. I'm willing to face consequences, but spare her from this."

Junggan, unmoved by Seungcheol's plea, continued to press his demands. "Relinquish your shares and your position, or her suffering will be just the beginning. Your family will pay for the pain they've inflicted on mine."

In the tense exchange, Seungcheol's mind raced, searching for a solution that would save you from the impending danger. The cold metallic resonance of a sharpening knife underscored the urgency of his decision, knowing that every passing moment brought you closer to the brink of harm.

The reminiscence of past grievances escaped from Junggan's mouth—the CEO status taken by Seungcheol's father, the love of his life, Seungcheol's mother, passed away after an accident made by Lee Family after a debt they couldn't afford. Betrayed by the nephew he saw as a means to reclaim what he believed was rightfully his, Junggan revealed that Seungcheol's actions had thwarted his grand plan for vengeance, fueling a burning desire to settle the score against a family he deemed responsible for his life's misfortunes. Desperate to thwart the unfolding tragedy that hung heavily in the air, his voice quivered with a potent mix of fear, anger, and an enduring undercurrent of love that defied the years of familial discord.

Seungcheol's plea cut through the tense silence, the gravity of the situation reflected in the beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

"Uncle, you can't let this happen. There has to be another way. I won't let you harm her," Seungcheol implored, his eyes betraying a deep-seated concern for you, the woman he loved.

Junggan, shrouded in malevolence, reveled in the chaos he had orchestrated. His response dripped with vindictiveness.

"Seungcheol, you were always naive. You're a mother's son indeed, but you've betrayed your bloodline by siding with the Lees. Her family took everything from me!" Junggan's voice echoed through the desolate space, carrying the weight of years of perceived injustice.

Seungcheol, clinging to a glimmer of hope, pleaded for reason.

"I can't change the past, but causing harm won't right those wrongs. This cycle needs to end," he urged, his gaze unwavering despite the ominous figure holding a knife to your neck.

Junggan, driven by a festering bitterness, pressed on with his ultimatum.

"Your father and your in-laws stripped me of everything. Now, you'll pay the price unless you give up your shares and the CEO position," Junggan declared, the shadows accentuating the grim determination etched on his face.

Seungcheol, sensing an opening, sought common ground in an attempt to alter the course of events.

"I know you loved my mother. Is this what she would want? Revenge? Darkness?" he questioned, hoping to kindle a spark of humanity in his uncle's hardened heart.

A moment of hesitation flickered in Junggan's eyes, caught between the allure of vengeance and the echoes of a love that once defined him.

Seungcheol seized the moment, his voice resolute as he proposed an alternative.

"Let's find a way out of this darkness, together."

Seungcheol, desperation etched across his face, pleaded with his uncle. "See me as my mother's son then, as someone's son you truly loved. Is this what she would have wanted for us? For me to cause harm to the ones I care about?"

Junggan's cold gaze wavered for a moment, a fleeting glimpse of humanity breaking through the hardened exterior. Seungcheol seized the opportunity, buying precious seconds, knowing you were attempting to free yourself from the restraints.

"I know you've suffered, Uncle. I can't change the past, but I refuse to perpetuate this cycle of pain. Let her go, and we can find a way to heal, to break free from this darkness."

The room hung in a tense pause, Seungcheol's words echoing as he desperately sought a crack in his uncle's resolve. As you managed to loosen the ropes around your hands, you prepared to make your move.

Unable to sway Junggan, Seungcheol saw your decisive action. In a split second, you turned the tables on the masked assailant behind you, catching them off guard. Seungcheol seized the distraction, lunging at his uncle, attempting to overpower him and put an end to the sinister plan unfolding in that dimly lit room.

The deafening sound of a gunshot pierced the air, sending shockwaves through the dimly lit room. In a twist of fate, the bullet veered off course, sparing you but hitting the masked assailant square in the chest. The mysterious figure crumpled to the ground, revealing the chaotic tableau that unfolded before you.

Seungcheol, reacting with primal instinct, unleashed a barrage of punches on his uncle, Choi Junggan, driven by a potent mix of fury and the need to protect you. The room echoed with the collision of fists against flesh, a visceral symphony of retribution.

Heart pounding, you sprinted toward the chaotic scene, brandishing the knife you had managed to acquire. Desperation fueled your every step as you aimed for Junggan, determined to end the threat he posed. But the abrupt sound of another gunshot halted your advance, freezing you in place.

A searing pain gripped Seungcheol's stomach as he staggered back, a look of disbelief in his eyes. The room seemed to warp as your husband, once a pillar of strength, struggled to maintain consciousness. Panic clawed at your throat as you rushed to his side, frantically calling his name.

Meanwhile, the room buzzed with the arrival of law enforcement, finally catching up to Choi Junggan's malevolent pursuits. He was apprehended, the weight of his crimes hanging heavy as he was led away in custody. Mingyu and Myungho, responding swiftly, joined the chaotic scene.

Fingers trembling, you cupped Seungcheol's face, desperately trying to keep him conscious. The room spun, an unwelcome dance of disorientation as you fought against panic threatening to consume you. Mingyu and Myungho, sensing the urgency, swiftly called for paramedics, their voices a cacophony in the chaotic aftermath.

Seungcheol's eyes fluttered, struggling to focus on your face. The pain etched across his features intensified your desperation. "Stay with me, Seungcheol," you pleaded, your voice cracking with a mixture of fear and determination.

Myungho ushered the paramedics into the room, and their swift, practiced movements conveyed a sense of urgency. Assessing Seungcheol's condition, they worked efficiently to stabilize him. The sterile scent of antiseptic mingled with the lingering tension in the room as they set to work.

Mingyu, his expression etched with concern, hovered nearby, a silent pillar of support. The paramedics, clad in their clinical attire, exchanged urgent words, and the rhythmic beeping of medical equipment became a lifeline, a fragile connection to hope amid the chaos.

As Seungcheol was carefully placed onto a stretcher, your hand found his, the warmth of your touch a reassurance. "You're going to be okay," you whispered, more a declaration to yourself than to him, as if willing the words to manifest into reality.

*

The next day dawned with an incessant buzz of media activity outside the hospital, a swarm of journalists hungry for details about the tumultuous events that unfolded the night before. Cameras clicked, microphones were thrust forward, and questions were fired in rapid succession, creating a chaotic backdrop to the already tense situation.

Mingyu and Myungho, the steadfast guardians in this storm, ensured you were shielded from the relentless media frenzy. Their combined efforts allowed you moments of respite, a precious chance to attend to Seungcheol's side while navigating the whirlwind of investigations and inquiries.

The hospital became a temporary sanctuary, its walls offering both refuge and scrutiny. You moved through the corridors with the weight of exhaustion and concern etched on your face. The ordeal had left a lasting impact, and the layers of shock and fear demanded a toll on your stamina.

Mingyu and Myungho orchestrated a delicate balance, managing the influx of information while insulating you from the relentless bombardment of reporters. Their dedication ensured that you could focus on being by Seungcheol's side, a quiet force in the midst of chaos.

Seungcheol remained unconscious, a silent figure in the sterile hospital room. The aftereffects of the surgery lingered in the air, and the medical equipment surrounding him hummed a somber melody of monitoring and healing. As you sat by his bedside, your gaze flitted between the rhythmic blips on the monitor and the unconscious figure before you.

In the periphery, Mingyu and Myungho dealt with legal matters, fielding inquiries, and liaising with the authorities to ensure justice prevailed. The investigation into Choi Junggan's malevolent actions continued, unveiling a tapestry of deception and betrayal.

The quiet hum of the hospital room enveloped you as you maintained a vigilant watch over Seungcheol, waiting for the moment when he would stir from his unconscious state. The sterile scent of antiseptic lingered in the air, creating an atmosphere of hushed expectancy.

Days turned into nights, and your presence by Seungcheol's side remained unwavering. The rhythmic beeping of the monitors provided a constant backdrop, a metronome marking the passage of time in the silent room. Mingyu and Myungho, the ever-dedicated allies, took turns supporting you, ensuring you had moments to rest amidst the persistent vigil.

Then, a subtle change began to unfold. The stillness in the room seemed to shift, and Seungcheol's eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the muted hospital lighting. The quiet anticipation gave way to a surge of relief as his gaze met yours.

For a moment, silence enveloped the room—a tableau where words seemed insufficient to capture the depth of emotions. You reached out, your hand finding his, and a faint smile played on Seungcheol's lips. The shared understanding transcended spoken language—a silent acknowledgment of the trials endured and the connection that persevered.

"My love," Seungcheol's voice, though weak, carried a resonance that resonated with the shared experiences of the tumultuous days. The weight of unspoken words lingered in the air—apologies, gratitude, and the silent promise of a shared path forward.

Mingyu and Myungho, attuned to the subtle shifts in the room, discreetly stepped outside, giving you the space for this intimate reunion. The hospital surroundings faded into the background as you and Seungcheol navigated the unspoken intricacies of the journey you had weathered together.

The initial frailty in Seungcheol's voice strengthened, and he began to piece together the fragments of what had transpired during his unconscious interlude. As you recounted the events, Seungcheol's expressions mirrored a spectrum of emotions—from disbelief to anguish and, ultimately, a steely resolve.

Seungcheol's concern radiated as he carefully examined you, his eyes searching for any signs of injury. Your sigh carried a blend of exasperation and affection, and a soft slap on his arm punctuated your reassurance.

"Stop worrying me! You got shot, but luckily it didn't hit anything vital," you said, your words laced with relief. Yet, as the weight of the recent events pressed down, a tear found its way down your cheek, betraying the underlying emotions.

Seungcheol, witnessing your vulnerability, regarded you with a mix of disbelief and tenderness. "Hey, I'm okay now," he gently assured, reaching out to wipe away the escaping tears. "I'm fine, just some pain in my abs. Don't cry."

As Seungcheol's fingers brushed against your cheek, attempting to alleviate your tears, a nuanced connection unfolded. Your laughter, tinged with both relief and lingering anxiety, echoed in the hospital room. Seungcheol's fingers delicately wiped away the tears that had escaped your eyes, his gaze searching yours with an intensity that transcended the spoken words.

"I thought... I thought I almost lost you," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. The emotions of the past days surged to the surface, and you found solace in Seungcheol's reassuring presence.

Seungcheol's thumb brushed against your cheek, capturing the stray teardrops. "You won't lose me. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere." His words carried a depth that resonated with the shared experiences, the trials that had tested the foundation of your relationship.

The intertwining of your fingers created a silent pact—an unspoken vow that traversed beyond the confines of the hospital room. The fragility of the moment, juxtaposed against the resilience you both exhibited, rendered the air charged with a profound understanding.

As the hospital surroundings faded into the background, you and Seungcheol navigated the uncharted territory of post-trauma healing. The physical wounds, while mending, paled in comparison to the emotional labyrinth that lay ahead.

Seungcheol's voice, a soothing cadence, broke the quietness. "We'll get through this, together. No more secrets, no more hidden agendas. Just us, facing whatever comes our way."

*

A week later, as Seungcheol was discharged from the hospital, you embarked on a dual mission—preparing a grand welcoming party for his return and orchestrating a surprise announcement of your pregnancy. The air was charged with anticipation, both for the joyous reunion and the revelation that would shape the next chapter of your lives.

Amidst managing company affairs and attending to Seungcheol's recovery, you meticulously planned the party, envisioning the moment when you would share the news with your closest circle. The guest list included your parents, Mingyu, and Myungho, each holding a special place in your journey.

Unbeknownst to you, Mingyu and Myungho had discreetly informed Seungcheol about the impending announcement, adding an extra layer of excitement to the occasion. They playfully briefed him on the need to feign surprise later, turning a heartfelt moment into a delightful act.

As Seungcheol made his way home, a swirl of nerves accompanied his anticipation. The idea of feigning surprise added a humorous twist to the heartfelt revelation, highlighting the camaraderie that had formed between him, Mingyu, and Myungho.

The echoes of laughter and warmth from the party venue set the stage for the surprise, with decorations and joyful chatter creating an atmosphere of celebration. You, with a radiant smile, welcomed everyone, your eyes holding the secret you were about to unveil.

Seungcheol, aware of the impending revelation, played his part with an endearing mix of anxiety and excitement. His eyes sparkled with the anticipation of a scripted surprise, concealing the joy that brewed within.

The party unfolded seamlessly, filled with genuine happiness, heartfelt congratulations, and a shared toast for the growing family. Amidst the festivities, Seungcheol's feigned surprise added a touch of playfulness, creating an unforgettable memory that blended sincerity with a lighthearted twist.

As you stood together, announcing the impending arrival of a new member to your family, the room brimmed with love and shared joy. The surprise element, a collaborative effort with Mingyu and Myungho, added a layer of laughter to the celebration, underscoring the support and unity that defined your close-knit circle.

As the echoes of laughter and celebration subsided, the warm glow of the party lingered in the air. The night wore on, and eventually, you found yourselves in the quiet intimacy of your home. The day's excitement had settled, leaving only the serene presence of you and Seungcheol, cuddling on the bed.

Seungcheol, ever the sweet and caring husband, wrapped his arms around you, creating a cocoon of comfort. The genuine happiness from the party still radiated from both of you, making the shared moments even more precious.

Hours ago, Seungcheol had brilliantly acted out the surprise of your pregnancy announcement, and now, in the quiet solitude of your bedroom, his tenderness shone through. He whispered words of love and anticipation, expressing his joy at the prospect of becoming a father. Every touch and caress conveyed the depth of his feelings, creating a cherished connection between you two.

"You know, Seungcheol," you began, your voice carrying a feigned hurt, "you didn't have to pretend to be surprised about the pregnancy. I know you already knew back in the hospital."

Seungcheol's expression shifted from affectionate to a mix of surprise and amusement. His eyes met yours, registering your playful accusation. You continued, maintaining the facade of being a little upset.

"I appreciate the effort, but I would have loved if you asked me about it in person," you teased, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

Seungcheol, realizing the playful charade, chuckled softly. "You caught me," he admitted, a sheepish smile gracing his lips. "I just wanted to go along with the surprise, make it special for you."

You let out a melodious laugh, the earlier faux-disappointment dissolving into shared amusement.

Seungcheol, still holding you close, caressed your cheek and spoke with a sincerity that touched your heart. "I just want every moment, every announcement, to be special for you, my love. Our journey together, especially with our little one on the way, means everything to me."

You smiled, your heart brimming with love for the man beside you. "And it is special, Seungcheol. More special than any surprise. I'm grateful for every moment we share."

He pressed a soft kiss on your forehead, sealing the sentiment with affection. "I love you, more than words can express."

"I love you too, Seungcheol," you whispered, cherishing the quiet closeness of the night and the promises it held for your growing family. The future, once shrouded in uncertainty, now felt full of hope and the enduring strength of your bond.

As you both drifted into a peaceful sleep, the echo of those three words lingered in the room, a sweet lullaby that embraced you in the warmth of love and the anticipation of a beautiful journey ahead.

[aingeal98]

I think Cass as Batman should get to follow the time honoured fanon meme of having a bunch of people shipping Cassandra Wayne with this new Batman. Bonus points if they also believe Bruce Wayne and original Batman have been coparenting all the Wayne kids, which makes rumours and debates about this new Batman even more heated. Someone og Batman thought good enough for not only his mantle but his precious stepdaughter? What sort of crazy perfect crime fighter could that be? Maybe the second batgirl? Wasn't she in Hong Kong though? Wait, I thought she died? Did we ever have a solid theory for how batman found her?

Cass isn't massively online, she mostly just enjoys watching YouTube videos and learning memes through that. And she rarely interacts with reporters so when one actually does stick a camera in her face and ask her about the connection between herself and the new, smaller Batman, her mind goes blank and she just blurts out:

"Yeah we've fucked."

It's all over the Internet within 24 hours. The happiest people are the ones who had been fighting with everyone insisting that this new Batman was definitely Not a man and now gets to rub it in their opponents faces that known lesbian Cassandra Wayne has slept with them so therefore the probability of them being a woman has just skyrocketed.

Bruce has journalists ringing him six times a day. Damian gets popcorn. Beloved hero the Signal gets asked about it and says that it's true and as a proud ally he supports all his gay Bat colleagues. Miss Wayne's current girlfriend Stephanie tweets out "Pray for me guys, her ex can fight 😔😔"

Despite the explicit confirmation from Cass that they used to be a thing, the Cassandra Wayne/Second Batman tag never gets higher than the 10th most popular ship on Gotham's vigilante rpf ao3 fandom. Eight of the nine above her are M/M and the other one is batcat.

[sound-under-the-sea]

That’s what I love about Rex. He’s wiling to help because deep down he is good natured and wants to help. His quote of “Because a person is person” due to him hero complex and being the only hope to save everyone. It makes him wanting to help Circe, hitting against a brick wall. He’s so good natured but he doesn’t know when to stop…unless the plot makes him which is my own grievance. He’s willing to make up his mistakes because he cares about others. Sometimes you have to let individuals find help their own way.

It doesn’t help with What Lies Beneath when Holiday is trying to encourage Rex in considering a relationship, even though she was there when they argued. Holiday, I love you, but please see the problem. The show ties itself with wanting Rex to have normal teenage relationships, but sometimes it just doesn’t work. Then sometimes the adults try to help, but are ignoring the clear red flags. Like she tried to reassure him in season three. Everyone is trying their best in the messed up situation, but it isn’t working. I do think adults should step in more, but because the show is half the time plot driven and to me, seesaws with how it approaches EVO and certain factions. I think the problem is me because the worldbuilding too interesting to ignore.

I agree, making Circe lashing out is the problem I think Circe deserve adult guidence, but I don’t think adults like Six or Holiday are good fit in stepping in because Circe wouldn’t trust them because of Providence and how she king of views Rex’s situation as tragic, I don’t think she’d be open to them to be know them. Quarry is the only other EVO adult, and like Van Kleiss, exploits those that are outcasts. There aren’t many adult options for her which is probably another reason why she thrives better with Hong Kong kids as they were sadly exploited by Quarry, so they understand the need to survive. The only EVO adult/Leader that doesn’t get fair shot is NoFace because he understands pain of the outcast situation, but the plot keeps telling him he’s wrong in that and I find it tragic.

I’m sorry if I’m not making any sense. I completely agree with your points. Some of issues just goes with writing because sometimes the show feels like seesaw with certain issues.

Unpopular opinion perhaps but idt Circe and Rex are a good couple and hear me out. This is not Circe hate I fucking love Circe. She's my girlie. I will jokingly call her Rex's goth gf but like...their dynamic is kinda not great.

Starting with Rex he is extremely codependent with people. Not in an only bad way - he just wants to solve people's problems bc that's what he's used to based on his circumstances. He's the Cure, the specialest guy in his world and everyone knows it even as he doesn't want to be. But he is so used to not just being reliable, but relying on others if he thinks he can't handle something - which isn't often bc he's 15-17 and forced into a hero complex, but it happens. He's used to Six and Holiday saving his ass and having to work with other people. He's also very people-oriented, craving deep connections and willing to open up to anyone.

And in contrast, we have Circe. She is clearly very independent, likes solving issues on her own and hates swallowing her pride, which is fine bc she's ALSO 15-17 and traumatized and manipulated by VK a lot. VK outright said she was in a terrible place when he found her and I don't doubt it, bc that's his MO, playing off of people's desperation. She was a manipulated, discriminated against and traumatized teenager who I want to make abdolutely clear I do not blame for her actions. Girlie clearly has a lot to work through.

But ultimately, I think this makes Circe and Rex a bad romantic couple. Their romantic moments read to me more like kids with no experience dating rather than a deep connection. When they fight, it's always really, really bad, and usually Rex is feeling the brunt of the argument - which again, is not a dunk on Circe. Rex has had emotional support for as long as he can remember with Holix, while it's clear while VK was around the Pack did Not get along. But it's just...shitty for him. He has to consistently be the bigger person which, if he was another character with another backstory willingly and consistently engaging with her it wouldn't be that bad. Noah, for example, could probably handle it better than Rex and be able to better communicate that hey, this isn't fair to lash out at him and that's something to work on. (Again, not a dunk on Circe - people can have negative traits that are not their fault that they still need to rectify to be fair for others. Also, it just flat-out makes her a more interesting character.)

But Rex? Rex is the hero. He's the savior, because that's all he remembers. He's the guy who has to show empathy, has to give other EVOs that aren't blatantly evil second chances, because he's used to no one else doing it. So to me, it just...makes for a bad dynamic for both of them. Rex takes too much shit from Circe bc he wants to help her, and then oversteps her boundaries with what she wants to deal with alone and upsets her more. Circe feels like she's being pitied or talked down to by Rex, and then she either lashes out or gets cold.

I think, honestly, that if they weren't traumabonded...they wouldn't even be that close. Their personalities don't mesh - they could be good friends, but surface level friends. People who talk about their interests or only hang out in friend groups, and that would be fine. But in a romantic relationship, it just...doesn't work.

[zvaigzdelasas]

Hui, who founded Evergrande in 1996, was detained by Chinese police last month on “suspicion of illegal crimes” related to the debt-laden company’s financial woes.[...]

Founder Hui was once Asia’s second-richest person, having built up a personal fortune of $42 billion by 2017. However, according to Bloomberg’s Billionaires Index, which tracks the real-time wealth of the world’s wealthiest people, Hui’s net worth has now tumbled to $979 million. That means he has lost 98% of his wealth over the past six years.[...]

Since the Chinese government insisted that Hui use his own wealth to pay off some of Evergrande’s debts, the firm’s embattled founder and chairman has been selling off assets including a $227 million London mansion and a $112 million villa in Hong Kong.

Lol, and I can't stress this enough: lmao [25 Oct 23]

[johnwickb1tsch]

Sympathy for the Devil ~ Part 6

A Donaka Mark x housekeeper!Reader fic, based on @discoscoob 's concept & bot! Warnings: Donaka Mark is a bad man with a soft spot for you. dark romance, possessive behavior, nonconsensual voyeurism, red flag red flag girl!🔺, psychological games, power imbalance, eventual dubcon/nsfw.

one. two. three. four. five.

Six. 六

Your dark mood lasts for days. You do not shirk your duties, but you definitely brood, hating everything, most of all yourself. A part of you hopes that Donaka decides you’re not worth the trouble after a glimpse of this other side of you. He does not prod you further, seemingly steering clear of you. He had his fun taking you down a peg–what more could he want with you? Surely he has better things to do… The more time goes on, the more certain you are that his proposition was mostly in your head.

Amusingly, it’s little Mrs. Wong who gets you out of your funk, yelling at you in Cantonese and smacking you with a wooden spoon when (maybe?) you didn’t move out of her way fast enough in the kitchen. You are determined that someday she’s going to let you call her Auntie, but apparently you still have some distance to cover. Her temper is like a firecracker, loud but shortlived. She’s adorable and terrifying, and it’s all so ridiculous that you cannot stop laughing as you flee, and the shroud of your depression lifts again like the sun penetrating through the clouds.

The absurdity of life has always saved you in times like this. What do you have to be sad about, anyway? You are healthy, you are housed, and you are fed in this beautiful place. You are having an adventure. So what, if your diabolically handsome employer does not approve of you? You’re just here to clean his floors, for fuck’s sake. 

Maybe Donaka Mark is rich, but that doesn’t mean he has all the answers to the mysteries of life. You find your mental state improves, when it seems like he’s ignoring you. 

Flirting with the cute gardener’s assistant doesn’t hurt your state of mind either. His name is Jun, he has an infectious laugh, and he offers to show you around the city on your next day off. Thinking some down time with someone your age will do you good, you are set to meet him at the bus stop down the hill from Mr. Mark’s house. 

However, he never shows. You try not to take it too hard, but it still bums you out. 

He does not return with the gardener the next week either, and then you start to worry. The kind old man who tends Donaka Mark’s plants just shrugged at your inquiry and said, “He quit.” 

It seems odd, but you brush it off. You suppose you’ll just have to explore the city on your own. You ask for the day off for your birthday, wanting to go do the touristy things, like ride the historic ferry and take the tram up to Victoria Peak. Maybe visit a temple, do some shopping at the Night Market, and definitely indulge in some local eats. Something about living in Hong Kong has you dreaming about noodles. It’s an affliction. You want to try them all. 

On your day there is a little carved wooden box on the table where you usually partake your breakfast in the common area of the servants’ quarters. You’re not sure why your heart falls to your feet with something like dread, but somehow you just know that Mr. Mark has not forgotten about you after all. 

With a forbidden thrill you flip the lid carefully, finding a domed-link silver filigree and enamel bracelet set with dreamy jade cabochons. The little details are exquisite, and you’re instantly enchanted. When you look carefully at the bauble, you realize the stylized blue designs aren’t flowers–they’re bats.

He remembered that conversation you’d had, that very first day. It warms you to your toes, and maybe scares you too. He's good to the staff, but you don't think he usually buys them jewelry.

Goddammit.

You just know, deep down, that you shouldn’t accept it. You even set it back down in the box again, just looking at it with hands on your hips. 

But therein lies the crux of temptation: you want it. It’s pretty and well made, not cheap tourist junk, and…he’d put thought into this gift for you. 

This bait for you, you remind yourself. It’s still hard for you to believe that he’s propositioning you, if for anything, because a man like him could have a supermodel on each arm if he wanted. What the fuck would he want with a girl like you?

Maybe…it’s just an apology?

Not likely, but surely he’s not going to expect you to sleep with him for a silver bracelet??

You have a problem, and possibly, a screw loose. You know this is a flame you should not play with. You are toeing the line, dangerously close to falling in.

What if…you just wear it today, then give it back? It’s not like he’ll know. You doubt you’ll even see him today.

It feels like a guilty secret, as you pick it up again, clasp it on your wrist, and set out for your big day. You like the weight of the heavy silver on your skin–worse yet, you like knowing that Mr. Mark selected this bauble just for you. It feels…like a badge of honor, and you know it’s stupid, to feel proud of yourself for catching the attention of a man like him–but you can’t help it.

You are smart, but sometimes? Your heart is really really stupid.

You do not return to the house until well past after dusk, nearly midnight. You made a day of it, actually able to enjoy the city since Mr. Mark pays so well. You will remember the hand pulled noodles with beef you had for dinner in the Night Market for the rest of your life, they were so delicious. Watching the chef stretch them out from a lump of dough was like a religious experience. 

Having your fortune told in the Night Market was memorable too, but maybe a little unsettling. Squatted on a stool in the older woman’s stall, you paid 100HK dollars for her to look at your right hand and frown. She told you that money would never be a problem for you, but the men in your life would always cause you difficulty. Looking at your relationship with your father and every man after that, you reckon she was probably right. You know you should take it with a grain of salt, but you can’t quite shake the hum of unease in the back of your mind.

On tired feet you walk through the garden, around to the entrance to the servant’s quarters. 

"Did you have a nice day?" asks a voice from the shadows. You start, then realize Mr. Mark is sitting on the carved stone bench, on the path to the servants' wing of the house, tucked back in the manicured trees. 

Fuck.

Immediately you tuck your wrist behind your back.

“Mr. Mark?”

“Come here.”

His voice is deliberately neutral–you can’t quite gauge his mood as you approach, feeling like a teenager caught staying out past her curfew. You have no way of knowing he has been waiting for hours, growing more and more annoyed that you are away from him, not under his watchful gaze, where you belong.

He knows where you were, if not exactly what you did. Unbeknownst to you, there is a tiny tracker inserted in your new bracelet you wear with such foolish avarice. 

“Well?”

“Yes, I had a wonderful day,” you confirm, coming to stand before him, committed now even if you are walking into the lion’s den. You find it odd he’s waiting up for you, but it is a beautiful night to be out in the garden. A cool breeze is coming off the water, lifting your hair.

“Let’s see it then.” He points at your hand so casually held behind you, and you know you are caught out.

Almost guiltily, you extend your arm to show off your new acquisition in situ. 

He props your hand with just the tips of his fingers, his touch maddeningly light on your sensitive palm as he turns your wrist to inspect the bracelet, sending a thrill down your arm. He likes seeing the gift that he selected upon you.

“It suits you,” he finally assesses, though you still can’t tell if he’s displeased. “Do you like it?”

“Yes,” you answer, barely above a whisper, feeling as though you are sealing something between you as you admit it. 

“Well, that’s convincing.”

Your heart feels like a sea urchin lodging in your throat. You’re not sure what it is about this man that makes you want to please him–and tell him to fuck off–all in the same breath. 

Then he gets to the fun part–for him. “You shouldn’t have stayed out so late alone,” he scolds you. 

You cant your head and press your lips, holding in the smart remark that burns on your tongue as his coal-black eyes bore into you, settling for, "I didn't mean to worry you…but it is my day off. I think I'm free to do what I want." You just can't stop yourself from adding the last bit, and you wonder from his darkening expression if it will be your undoing.

He imagines in that moment what it would be like to reach out and put you over his knee. Instead, he stands abruptly, startling you into taking a step backwards. 

He likes that. 

It irks him, that you dare defy him, like he doesn’t know what’s best for you. If you insist on acting so tough, he’s tempted to throw you over his shoulder and show you just how little it would take to actually break you. 

"Were you drinking?" he asks darkly, hating the thought of you out in a bar, with other men, enjoying yourself. Laughing, like you were with the young gardener not so long ago. The moment he saw that on his camera feed that he constantly watches of you, Donaka saw red. You should not give your joy to others so freely. You sprinkle it around everywhere you go, and he covets it all for himself.

That boy had to go.

"No," you defend, and you’re telling the truth. "I just...walked around." There was plenty to see in Kowloon district. 

Donaka takes another step closer, his body almost pressing against yours, the heat of it warming you. He watches your reaction as he speaks, his voice low and firm. “You should have let me arrange a driver for you.”

This again. It feels as though he wants to cloister you away from experiencing the world, by shoving you in a car. "Donaka..." you sigh, slipping into using his first name for the first time ever, because you’re tired, and your feet hurt, and he is standing very close, talking to you like he has a say in what you do…

It’s maddening and arousing all at once, rubbing with a velvet touch against some long long cavewoman instinct in your brain, and if you’re not careful this just might be the night he outmaneuvers you. 

Donaka’s eyes narrow at hearing you dare to be so familiar with him, even if deep down he secretly loves it. He takes another step into you, crowding you against the stone wall, caging you in with an arm. He’s blocking your path to a quick exit into the servants’ quarters, you can’t help but notice. Your heart pounds in your ears–but you’re not half as afraid as you should be of this man. 

“Hong Kong is pretty safe, as it goes…” you continue to protest around the sound of your heart drumming in your ears, earning a scoff. 

“You have no idea, the sorts of things that could happen to a girl like you in this city.”

You can’t help but think you’re not sure if you feel safe here at home now. 

“If something happened…I would have called you,” you offer up, appealing to his ego as protector, the role he’s apparently decided to take on for himself without asking you. 

However, he sees right through you, rolling those beautiful dark eyes. “You should have let me take you out,” he suggests in a low tone that curls your toes in your sandals. He says it like it had been some option on your menu that you’d rejected. Never in a million years would it have even occurred to you to ask. 

You find yourself doing your best impression of a fish out of water, like the ones you’d seen stacked like cord wood in the market. His other hand lifts to touch your chin lightly, closing your mouth. “Would you have liked that?” 

You honestly don't know the answer to that. 

This man fascinates you and repulses you. He's handsome and commanding and oh so forbidding. He scares you, but he draws you like a moth to a flame. Having these little flirtatious interactions around the house are one thing. Going out with him would be...something else entirely. The thought of what it could mean to socialize with a man like him, where you are so far from being equals, makes you uneasy. It's much safer to just...write about what might have been in your journal, later. 

"I'm not sure that would be appropriate," you finally answer breathily.

His smile for you is nothing less than the wolf baring its teeth. “Why not?”

"You're my boss..." you try to defend. You scare the shit out of me is the real answer you don't dare say aloud.

Donaka can’t help the dark laugh that falls from his lips at your answer, the way you flounder as you grasp for a defense, utterly drowning. A part of him wants to claim you right here and now, for being such a sweet, soft, naive little thing in his claws. 

He leans down closer to you, his head dipping down to your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “Is that the best excuse you’ve got?”

For a moment, you think your soul might evacuate from your body. 

"Pretty sure it's a good one," you barely manage to reply above a whisper.

“You still don’t understand what I’m offering you, do you?” he asks, his voice deceptively gentle, a dagger clothed in velvet.

You love it how he makes you out to be the obtuse one, when he is the one who has spoken so cryptically.

“I…might,” you answer. You’re not a complete innocent, or a total philistine.

What would a VIP experience on the arm of Donaka Mark be like? Although he can be charming when he wants to be, it makes you feel more anxious than intrigued. You imagine a dinner at some high-end restaurant you could never afford. Somewhere people go to be seen, more than to eat, though the food would undoubtedly be amazing. Somewhere you would feel incredibly out of place. Then what? A ride in one of his ugly but wicked fast sports cars? A night of hedonism at some exclusive club for millionaires only? And what would he expect as payment for all this? You can’t even say you wouldn’t be willing to give it. You want this man with a voracity that is–frankly–terrifying to you. 

You’ve never felt anything like it. 

What you wouldn’t like is the inevitable aftermath of later: he's offering you the opportunity to give yourself up–then get thrown away, with the enjoyment of some perks in between. You could repeat your mother’s history all over again, a thing you always swore up, down, and sideways you would never do.

Donaka watches all these thoughts play across your face, without a word aloud to accompany them. You just stare, unable to speak, and he narrows his eyes at you.

“Say one sentence of the novel you just wrote in your head out loud,” he challenges.

You open your mouth to try, but nothing comes out. All you can do is look up at him with what you are sure is a pathetic expression on your face, paralyzed. He is so close, and your eyes fixate for a long, damning moment on his mouth. In the end you have to close your eyes against that laser-like stare, shaking your head.

“You know something I find interesting about you,” he goes on. You open your eyes, though your tongue is still tied. “I think if I made you choose between an Hermès purse or that cheap bauble on your wrist this morning, you still would have chosen the bracelet, wouldn't you?”

“Yes,” you answer immediately, maybe not to your advantage. Then you feel a little relieved, glad it didn’t cost a fortune.

“Comparatively cheap,” he clarifies, as though he doesn't want you to feel too at ease. How did he know? 

You narrow your eyes, lifting your wrist towards him. “Maybe…you should take it back.”

You think you might die of a heart attack, when he folds your smaller hand in his, and kisses your knuckles lightly. “It’s too late for that.”

You’re not sure what that means, but as he strokes your thumb lightly with his, you start to tremble.

“Sir…” 

He pins you with his stare, looming over you, but makes no move, waiting. 

“It’s getting late…and I have to work tomorrow.”

He lifts an eyebrow, smirking down at you. “And whose fault is that?”

“Mine…though it’s starting to be yours.”

He snorts. “Then ask me for the day off again,” he dares you. When you answer him with yet more paralyzed silence he gets frustrated, tilting your face up with his huge hand engulfing your jaw. For a man who works in tech…his fingers are calloused, and strong, and your legs just might go out from underneath you.  “Ask me. Say it out loud, y/n. Tell me what’s going on, behind those big eyes.”

You, however, just shake your head against his masterful grip. “You don’t want to know.” 

“I like secrets, y/n. I want to know everything.” You suppose that is his bread and butter, with his security business and all his cameras…you don’t know why it never occurred to you before now, that it could be a personal obsession, as much as professional. 

You’re tempted. God, are you tempted, with this beast of a man looming over you, touching you, looking through you with those piercing dark eyes. Like he wants to eat you as much as he wants to fuck you… 

Somehow you know if you dare go down that path…there will be no turning back. 

You choose the coward’s road.

“Please…I think…it would be best…to call it a night.”

He weighs you with a heavy gaze for so long that you start to doubt he will let you go–in the darkest dungeon of your heart, you know that a part of you doesn’t want him to. It would be convenient, if he would make the choice for you. Let you taste the forbidden fruit with none of the blame…

You are losing your goddamned mind over this man. You need to stop.  

You never really know why in the end he releases you, pushing back from the wall to give you space. You side-step towards the door of the servant’s quarters, afraid for the predatory look he’s paying you, that he might change his mind.

 "Good night, Mr. Mark," you say quietly, before disappearing into the little building where you sleep. A rush of frustration flares inside him as you scamper away–again. He narrowly resists the urge to kick down your door and show you who you belong to.

“Good night,” he answers back through gritted teeth, only the crickets left to hear him. He’ll have your secrets, one way or another. He can genuinely say he tried–a first, in so long he can’t remember when. For what happens next…you will only have yourself to blame.

[kordeliiius]

A Cut From Every Cloth

Series of vintage photo mockups to commemorate Tarsier Studios turning 20 this year, featuring the main members of their pantheon in cultural clothing

Outfit descriptions and references below

Little Nightmares

Six - Japanese hakama, haori, and hair ornaments Mono - Swedish Dalarna suit Runaway - Embroidered Baju Melayu with headwrap

LittleBigPlanet Vita and Tearaway Unfolded

Sunshine - 19th-century Yorkshire dress with bonnet and lace shawl Atoi - Scottish tartan kilt and flat cap Sean - Regency-era suit with cybernetic motifs Flounder - Ringmaster uniform with Russian punk rock motifs Marianne - French folk dress with gothic accessories Otis - Appalachian denim overalls with decorative trim

The Stretchers, Statik, and Fists of Plastic

Red medic - Mexican serape wrap and sombrero Blue medic - Zoot suit with fedora and metallic accessories Dr. Ingen - Victorian pinstripe suit Hero - Hainanese bamboo dance costume

The City of Metronome

Ten - Irish-inspired coordination with walking hat and Galway boots New - Bai and Hmong Hoa-inspired outfit with traditional headdress and Hong Kong embroidery

[pearwaldorf]

We should all say thank you to Jordan Peele for rescuing Monkey Man from streaming because this movie deserves to be seen on a big screen. There was a lot of love and craft put into this movie and I'm glad it can be properly appreciated.

I am pleased to report it absolutely fucks and the soundtrack is banging. It owes a lot to John Wick, of course, but also Atomic Blonde and Hong Kong action movies. (They didn't even use all six shots in the revolver, which was a nice touch.) I would watch a whole John Wick-esque franchise with Dev Patel as an action hero.

If, like me, you are a fan of attractive men suffering and/or getting fucked up, this movie will feed you extremely well.

I'm extremely not familiar with Indian cinema, but it's real interesting watching this after RRR. (To be clear, this is a movie made by somebody of Indian descent, but it is not exactly an Indian movie.) Not just in political outlook (the evil politician and his party are clearly meant to evoke Modi and the BJP), but how they use Hindu religious imagery to frame the story.

[edit:] Netflix gave up the rights to the movie precisely because of the portrayal of the nationalist political party. Well then.

I am not culturally equipped to discuss the role of hijra in Indian society, but it is absolutely significant (and intentional) Patel's character is rescued and guided by a community of hijra. That speaks a great deal to where his social and political allegiances lie, and I'm glad to support that.

[pajarinwrites]

中秋节 | Wen Junhui x Reader

➳ fem!reader x jun

➳ wc: 6.1k

➳ TAGS: idol!au, established relationship

➳ WARNINGS: omg um, cunnilingus, jun is a SIMP, piv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it, my dudes), praise, just general adorable lovey dovey softness, but like medium rough sex? ig, not really rough?, i never know how to write warnings, just like i don't know how to write smut woops sorry

➳ AN: HAPPY MID AUTUMN FESTIVAL BITCHES and 女王们; this is only moderately edited bc i actually meant to publish smt for 中秋节 last year but i didn't finish it in time so here it is now (I’m sure it’s still autumn festival somewhere in the world…)! I LOVE WEN JUNHUI

I DON'T KNOW HOW TO WRITE SMUT I HATED THIS AHHHH i don't think i'll ever be able to write any smut in which the man isn't a simpering, whimpering, submissive, cowering, crawling, obsequious little simping piece of trash; it's just how i like my men, but i kinda wanna challenge myself some time, not this time though :P also i'm low-key proud of this smut? i used miraclewoozi as an inspiration bc their smut is literal art...

also, literally three pieces in one week??? WHO AM I??? this is more than in the entire year before combined, i fear lmao. sorry. i'm off to return to hibernate in my bog for another six months now thx bye, RIN OUT *drops mic

masterlist

Jun stepped out of the airport into the sweltering heat, but had to find that merely knowing the weather conditions was quite different from being prepared for them. Luckily, he had left enough space in his carry-on to take off the jacket and sweater that he had needed in chilly Seoul and during the flight – airplane ACs were notoriously unpredictable. Despite this, Hong Kong never seized to amaze him with its constant warmth. At least the eternal sunshine gave him a good excuse to wear a cap and sunglasses at all times.

He flagged down a cross-border cab because, frankly, he didn’t feel like taking the crowded metro all the way home. This way he saved himself from a lot of heat, hassle, and the potential of being recognised, even if it delayed him. As expected, the traffic in the city was a nightmare and he did make it home later than strictly necessary. He paid the fee, dodging the driver’s interested gaze, and mumbling a small “mh gōi” before dashing into his building.

When he was finally standing in front of his apartment door, Jun felt ready to just lock himself in his room for the rest of the night. That was, until the door opened to reveal his parents and little brother. Immediately, his frown softened and he dropped his bags to engulf them in one enormous hug.

“I missed you guys so much,” he exclaimed to groans from his little brother and a soft smile from his mother.

This was most likely going to be the last chance he got to spend more than a day or two with them. With their world tour and his busy filming schedule just around the corner, he wouldn’t have time for months.

Jun had spent years of Zhōngqiūjié apart from them. It wasn’t easy to watch most of his members be able to visit their homes and spend Chuseok with their loved ones. Some years it was only him, Minghao, and Joshua in the dorms. But he wasn’t going to dwell on that. Not when he could finally hold the people he loved the most in his arms. Well, most of them at any rate. He would never get used to having to choose between his biological and his chosen family.

His mother peeled herself away from him, squeezing his cheek and insisting that he had grown even more handsome over the last few weeks.  His step father clapped him on the shoulder and asked him about the flight; his brother asked if he had brought him anything cool. Unable to stop smiling for even a second, Jun assented to both questions. He was led to the living room by his mother to sit and relax after the ‘strenuous journey’, giving him a moment to fish the presents out of his luggage, handing one off to his little brother.

“Thanks, gē!” YangYang exclaimed and bounded off to his room to open it in peace. Their mother called after him, “Don’t forget to do your homework before playing! Dinner will be ready in an hour!” Jun smiled, handing his parents the other one.

“You shouldn’t have! I keep telling you we don’t need anything.”

“But I want to get you guys nice things, mā.”

She looked trapped half-way between smitten and resigned, but accepted the present gracefully. With a kiss on the top of his head she stated, “You can rest a little before I call you boys for dinner. I’m making your favourite.”

He thanked her, foregoing the idea of retiring to his room in favour of joining his mother in the kitchen. Most of the ingredients were already laid out on the counter, but when she bent down to pick up something from the bottom shelf, she gasped, “I can’t believe it! Where did all of our rice noodles go? I don’t think this is enough. And I also forgot to buy bamboo shoots earlier!”

She turned around, apologetically, and murmured about having to go to the market real quick to get some. Jun held out his hand to stop her in her tracks.

“Don’t worry, mā. I’ll go get the missing ingredients, and you can get started on the other dishes.”

“No let me go, Jun. You’ve just had a taxing flight and—“ His step-father tried to intervene.

“It’s absolutely no problem!” Jun insisted, not paying his parents’ protests any mind. He grabbed his sunglasses from the side table by the entrance and was out the door before either of them could stop him.

Jun had missed their shèqū, its homely atmosphere, the bustling of the people on the street, and hence didn’t mind the opportunity for a late-night stroll. The closest super market was just down the short road at the main square, and he stopped by quickly before continuing on his way to the live market.

There was a certain nostalgia in going to the market like this, just the way he used to with his mother when he was younger. The stalls didn’t even seem to have changed at all. There was the same group of old ladies dancing in the small park to the side, and a little further down the road, a small group of children was taking turns, performing on a gǔzhēng. Jun watched the windows of his old piano school pass by, still partially lit as students practiced inside. At the corner of the next street was the second-hand book store they had often visited, next to the pharmacy in which he used to sit on the kiddie rides for ages, singing along to jiātíng chēnghu or liǎng zhī lǎohǔ.

Still lost in nostalgia, he stopped by one of the vegetable vendors to acquire the bamboo shoots. Jun enjoyed strolling the aisles leisurely, taking a look at all the things that were being sold. As he rounded one of the displays, someone else was cutting the corner in the opposite direction. Jun barely managed to dance out of the trajectory of them, murmuring an immediate, “Sorry, are you okay?”

He pulled down his sunglasses and looked at the person in front of him in worry. They looked up, locked eyes with him and whisper-screamed, “Oh my god! Wen Junhui?”

Jun was taken aback for only a split second, which he spent worrying he had been recognised, before he could place your face. He hadn’t seen you properly in years, just another name on the long list of people he had to leave behind. The last time you had run into each other had been during Rock With You promotions, when Minghao and he had taken time for their own schedules in China. His eyes crinkled in the corners but he still didn’t dare to take off his mask.

“It’s been so long!” He said instead. You had pulled him into your arms within a second, just a quick squeeze before remembering where you were. You pulled away, pouting, “You didn’t tell me you’d be back.”

“Sorry, it slipped my mind. I also didn’t think I’d have enough time to meet you. Not properly…”

You wiggled your eyebrows, “What does that mean?” Jun blushed, making you laugh. “I’m kidding, A-Jun. But I’m glad we ran into each other. I mean, what are the odds!”

“I didn’t even know whether you still lived here,” he admitted, sheepishly. But Jun wished profoundly that you could feel how earnest he was being. You didn’t actually seem to mind his failure to alert you of his arrival, despite your history. Instead, you continued in your usual chirpy manner, “Yeah, I managed to find work close by so I could stay here. But I’m here here just for the holiday. Staying at my parents, you know.” Jun nodded, accompanying you to the register under more animated chatter.

“Do you have to get anything else?” You asked after you had stepped out the open market. He negated, returning the question.

“Me neither,” you replied, hesitating shortly before continuing, “I guess that means we’ll have to part ways again…”

The way your voice trailed off and your eyebrows knitted together made Jun reply before thinking better of it, “Actually, I think my mā can wait for these bamboo shoots a little longer…” You face lit up with such intensity and immediacy that Jun had to chuckle.

“In that case let’s take a stroll through the park. I’ve been keeping up with Seventeen obviously, but I want to hear from you, personally, how you’ve been doing.”

Falling into step beside you felt so easy. Together, you walked the same paths you did when you were teenagers, talking about everything and anything – back before he had to leave for Korea. He talked a lot about the shoots, dorm fights and misunderstandings, and how much he had missed his mother’s cooking. You winked, asking whether he hadn’t missed you at all, and he couldn’t string together a coherent sentence in reply. Instead he sputtered for a few seconds before you let him off the hook.

“It’s fine. I was joking, Jun. Oh, look!” Jun was glad for the distraction as he watched you hurry of to the pavilion down the path. If you hadn’t changed the subject he might’ve said something stupid. But when you spun around to face him under the colourful roof, with the small pond and the bamboo in the background, he wasn’t sure that he wouldn’t say something stupid yet.

He was sitting next to you, listening to you rant about your catty co-workers, absent boss, and the general annoyances of adulthood, unable to stop himself from grinning like an idiot at the familiarity, the ease of the whole situation. At some point he shot his mom a text to let her know that he ran into you and to eat without him. She simply replied that he should take his time, but he felt like she was secretly glad to have the two of you reconnect. Your conversations veered from family to old memories together until eventually, when the sun had set almost completely, you got up abruptly.

“I should get back. My mom wasn’t expecting me back immediately but at this point she’s probably wondering if I’ve gotten lost.” Jun nodded, getting up with you and stepping out of the pavilion. You threw one look back over your shoulder before smiling down at your shoes.

“I don’t know if you remember but… this is where you said goodbye…” Jun blinked slowly before the memory registered. He couldn’t believe that he hadn’t immediately thought of the day he went to Korea, the last day he spent with you, the day he missed his chance to say so many things he had wanted to say.

“Oh,” he breathes softly, “yeah, I remember. But it’s not a very fun memory.”

Jun decides to look anywhere but you, at the trees lining the road home to his apartment building, the birds flying overhead, the children playing across the street.

“I have to agree. But I’m glad to have you back now. Even if it’s just for an afternoon.”

“Actually, you should visit tomorrow! If you want, of course. I don’t think my family would mind seeing you again after such a long time, and…”

He stops in his tracks. The two of you have reached the intersection at which your ways part. Jun turned to face you. The words were still stuck in his throat, just like all those years ago, just like every time he’s seen you since. But this time, with your hopeful eyes looking up at him, he takes a deep breath. This time will be different. He takes the leap.

“… and I’d also love to spend more time with you.”

You smile in reply, and agree to visit tomorrow. To say goodbye, you hug him again, and he feels like he’s floating all the way home. Maybe tomorrow he’ll gain the courage to tell you everything that he’s been keeping in his heart.

Their dorms were quiet, the shared living areas swallowed in darkness as Jun excited his room. He had been talking to his family via video call for the past hour or two, catching up and trying their best to celebrate Zhōngqiūjié together, even when they were physically apart. You had initially planned on joining the call, but there had been last minute plans that had kept you from it. Even though Jun understood, he had been able to help feeling a little crestfallen when you had told him about it. The two of you had made it work since he confessed to you a year ago, talking almost weekly on the phone because both his and your commitments kept you from visiting all too often. And since this year he couldn’t visit home because of the impeding comeback, he would’ve at least enjoyed talking to you on the holiday proper, instead of just during one of your regularly scheduled calls. Especially with how long it had been since he’d last seen you in person in June. To him, an eternity.

Vernon, Dokyeom, and Chan had returned to their families for the evening to celebrate Chuseok together, leaving the dorm deserted, save Jun himself. They’d all met up for lunch as a celebration before most left to go home. It was an effort by the Korean members to ease the homesickness of those that wouldn’t be able to see their families over the holiday. Seungkwan had ended up accompanying Vernon, while Joshua and Minghao decided to simply celebrate with each other, even though they hadn’t been lacking in invitations either. Jun had made the same decision. They had let him know they’d be out until the night but that he could join them at their apartment later.

Especially Dokyeom had had a hard time simply leaving Jun behind, but the older man had insisted that he was going to be fine, and that it would give him a chance to call his family in China. But coming out of his room and being greeted with a cold, dark apartment, made Jun question his decision. He sighed, contemplating for a second whether he should simply return to his room instead of feeling the hollow emptiness of their shared dorm. But before he could make a decision, the doorbell rang.

He wasn’t expecting anyone, so the sudden shrill of the bell surprised him. Maybe it was one of the members, back early. Maybe Minghao and Joshua had decided to surprise him at the apartment. But when he looked at the screen of the camera system, he was greeted with a sight wholly unexpected. His breath hitched as he looked at you, your eyes staring straight at the camera, a warm smile on your face. Jun buzzed you in, jittery with nerves as he worried you might disappear or he might wake up. You had been talking about your crazy workload and extra assignments for the past few weeks, how on earth were you here?

This has to be a dream, he thought, standing in the open door and waiting for the tell-tale ping of the elevator. When he heard it, he couldn’t even wait for you to round the corner. In slippers, he sprinted down the hallway to the lift, coming face to face with you as you were trying to heave your luggage out. Jun cast it aside, picking you up and spinning you around. He buried his face in the side of your neck, breathing in the scent of your perfume and your skin.

“How are you here?” He whispered after a good few seconds of spinning and listening to your tinkling laugh.

“Well, you know, I bought a plane ticket, went to the airport in Hong Kong, I got on a plane—“ Jun interrupted you by picking you up again, proclaiming his happiness while you insisted that he finally put you down. If he had been a better man, he might’ve listened immediately. As it stood, it took the two of you several minutes to make it the short way from the elevator to his apartment door, Jun stopping every few seconds to give you another spin or a kiss.

Once you had finally made it safely inside, he brought your luggage to his room, before returning to the shared space and staring at you in fascination. There you were, right in front of him, leaning onto the counters of his dorm’s kitchen as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“How did you know I’d be home?” He asked and you giggled, presumably at his flabbergasted expression.

“I kind of asked the members for help…”

“What? Who?”

In hindsight, he thought he should’ve expected this. There had been a curious lack of invitations extended to him this year. Especially considering that Joshua and Minghao were still invited everywhere. And, thinking about it now, the fact that the two of them had insisted on spending the evening ‘outside’ without Jun had also been more than a little suspicious.

“Almost all of them helped coordinate it, actually. They all had to be in on it to some extent.”

“When did you start planning this?” He asked, making his way over to you. One last time, he picked you up, setting you down softly on the counter. This time you let him do as he pleased without protest, choosing to answer his question instead, “Like a month ago or so. When it started becoming clear that you’d have no chance to make it home this year.” Jun hummed in response, stepping closer to stand between your legs. His arms found their place around your waist.

“I’m so happy you’re here,” he murmured, resting his head on your shoulder and sighing deeply when he felt you wrap your arms around him. He wished you could stay like this forever, or at least for a very, very long time. You turned your head, whispering that you had brought yuèbǐng from Shenzhen with you and he nodded automatically. Mentally, he was still focused only on your presence, the fact that he got to hold you in his arms and use his thumbs to draw absentminded circles on your waist. If he hadn’t been so focused on your body, he would’ve missed the small hitch of your breath as he exhaled against the column of your throat. He smirked lightly, murmuring something along the lines of ‘we can eat them later’ before attaching his lips to the place where your shoulder and neck met. You gasped, more audibly this time as he sucked on the sensitive skin, following the line of your collarbone. You tugged at his t-shirt, whispering that you should move to his bedroom but Jun smirked against your skin, slowly pushing up your shirt. As he tossed it over your head, he whispered, “Don’t worry, we’ve got the apartment to ourselves all night.”

He smoothed his hands under your thighs, grabbing onto your plush flesh and cursing the layer of your pants for stopping him from feeling your skin. Jun pulled you closer, to the edge of the counter, so that he could finally feel you pressed to him again, making his hands wander back up. He placed them on your waist, gingerly at first, as if you were going to vanish into thin air if he didn’t handle you with enough care. He still wasn’t sure you weren’t a figment of his imagination how you were sitting in front of him, hair and clothes messy from your flight, but your eyes shining so brightly he thought you were the most ethereal being on this planet. But when you bucked your hips forward against his, all that restrain flew out the window. He slid his hands lower from your waist, relishing in every inch of skin he got to touch along the way, before he settled them on your ass, encouraging your motions even further. Your arms tightened around him, one hand finding its way into his hair, the other toying with the collar of his t-shirt before slipping downwards and below the fabric to caress his back. He groaned, moving one hand - albeit reluctantly – away from your hips to tilt your head to the side. He was overwhelmed with your nearness, the swell of your breasts pressed against him, the smell of your skin filling his senses, spreading through him, expanding into every corner of his consciousness until all he could perceive was your presence, your breath, your skin on his.

You kissed him with so much vigour that he felt light-headed, the sparkle of your eyes encapsulated him, as if he was floating in space, surrounded by innumerable stars, twinkling around him. In his weightlessness, your hands were caressing him, still. You dropped them to the hem of his t-shirt, tracing along the exposed skin there as the rhythm of your hips never faltered.

You broke away, Jun following your lips with a whine. He wasn’t yet ready to leave your cosmos, but you pressed a soft hand against his chest, tugging his shirt off. Jun, personally, would have preferred to resume kissing you breathless right away, but you had other plans. Your hands returned to his chest, covering the expanse of his pectorals, gliding over the ridge of his shoulder, caressing every centimetre of skin while tracing the muscles across his torso. Every touch left a tingling feeling, pulling him deeper and deeper into your gravitation. His head was thrown back in pleasure, his eyes screwed shut while he tried (and failed) to even out his breathing under your attentive ministrations. When your hands returned to his chest and you flicked against his nipples tentatively, his head dropped forward in defeat, colliding with your shoulder.

He was breathing more heavily than he’d like to admit, as if he really was slowly rising through the atmosphere, the air becoming thinner and thinner. His cock was painfully hard, you grinding against it deliciously with every roll of your hips. Separated by way too many layers, Jun thought dimly before tapping against your ass, signalling for you to lift your hips off the counter.

You complied easily, leaning back in a way that allowed him to strip you of your comfy leggings. He watched you shudder at the feeling of cool marble under your skin, goosebumps forming at the sensation. Reverently, he let his hands glide up and down your legs, watching you shiver again, just from his touch. He hadn’t even realised that he had lowered himself down until one of your hands grabbed for his hair and tilted his head back.

Ripped out of his reverie, Jun stared up at you, towering over him, backlit by the kitchen lights. If it hadn’t meant leaving your reach, Jun would have fallen to his knees right this second. In this light, you looked like a higher being, come to cast divine judgement on him, a final reckoning. Jun found he would have taken any verdict, as long as it meant preserving your attention. He would have obliged any command, taken any punishment with equanimity. He would have taken Prometheus’ place, if it meant he could bask in your presence for another moment. He would suffer any acrimony, any scorn, any tribulation, if it meant your gaze would continue to rest on him like this – zeroed in on his face, your expression soft with adoration. He didn’t have to fear any judgment. The only thing written on your face was love. It was mirroring his own, he was sure, from where he was pleading for you attention from between your legs. You wouldn’t let him out of your sight, your fingers tugging at his hair with purpose. He angled his head, a miniscule movement, just enough to allow him to breathe a kiss against the inside of your thigh, a fluttering promise of continuation. If you let him. You loosened your grip, and Jun took it as the invitation that it was. His path mapped over the fat of your thigh, spilling over his kitchen counters, up one leg, down the other. All the while, he didn’t break eye contact, watching your expression crackle and slip, pleasure and frustration mixing in even measures as you breathed a plea, “Qīn'ài de, you’re teasing.”

His breathing became uneven, for just a second, at the term of endearment. You didn’t need to spell out your request. He could see it in the rise and fall of your chest, the sounds sneaking their way past your lips, the shifting of your hips – almost involuntary. The vision of you before him blurred as he tried to hear the rest of your declaration over the rushing in his ears. Your legs twitched under his hands; he didn’t remember when he had moved them there. But now they were here, holding your legs apart, leaving imprints in your flesh where they pressed against you. Jun searched your face for any sign of hesitance, any doubt, but he found none. All he could find was a sense of desperation clawing its way up your throat, leaving a blooming blush in its wake.

He still continued holding your gaze when he pressed his mouth to your core, pushing his tongue against the wet spot on your underwear. You gasped a little, hands twisting in his hair, the slight pain grounding him in this moment. His hands continued kneading your flesh, wandering, in feverish haste, across every expanse of skin they could cover. Above him, you writhed and moaned, his name leaving your lips as if you were now the one praying. Your head had tilted back slightly, breaking eye contact. But Jun’s gaze never left your face, drinking in every expression as he pushed your panties to the side to gain proper access to your sopping core.

“OhmygodJun,” you breathed, head lolling to the side when his tongue swirled around your most sensitive spot. One hand moved from your ass to your core, probing at your entrance just to feel you clench around him, hear the sharp intake of your breath. You tipped backwards, resting on your elbows as his name continued to tumble off your lips into the still air of the apartment. Jun’s other hand moved upwards, taking no care in pushing your sports bra out the way to grab at your breasts, pinching your nipples intermittently. He watched your chest heave as he slipped two fingers past your entrance at once, his tongue lapping between them, desperate to taste as much of you as possible. Your hands kept pushing him closer and closer, until his every sense was filled with you. Your taste on his tongue, your panting breath in his ears, the plush feeling of your thighs around his head. He moaned against your core.

Jun felt your high approach, maybe knew it was coming before you yourself even did, the way he could read your body in this moment, with how every fibre of his being was honed in on you and your pleasure.

“Jun, bǎobèi, I’m…”

His hand slid down to your waist, squeezing reassuringly. Jun felt you constrict around his digits, your moans growing louder and more desperate. He kept pressing his fingers into that spot that had you squeeze around him, kept his mouth sucking on your clit, humming at the flavour of you, until you peaked. You came with a cry of his name that made his chest swell with pride. Your thighs shut around his head like a vice, your hand evidently torn between wanting to pull him away and push him closer. Jun remained pressed to your core, lazily lapping at your release until your legs relaxed and he gained enough freedom of movement to lean back and search for your gaze.

Even though he had spent minutes staring at the ethereal picture of you earlier, he was still taken aback by your beauty: your hair even messier, your face blushed, your eyes glazed over in the hazy afterglow. He pressed another kiss to the inside of your thigh.

“How are you feeling, my love?”

It took you a few moments to answer him, calming your breath. A moment of which he took advantage to return to his full height, leaving kisses up your body on his way there. Once he was face to face with you, he brushed your hair out of your face, looking at you with devotion. You smiled back, softly, your arms wrapping around his shoulders and immediately causing a warm shiver to run down the length of his body. There you were, in his arms, gazing at him with love, bestowing him with whatever divine favour slumbered in your presence.

You leaned in closer, letting your breath ghost over his skin for a second before whispering, “I need you.”

Jun was sure he was about to malfunction. The way his body reacted instantly, unbidden, must have been proof of your power. He couldn’t suppress the groan that rose to the surface, betraying his helplessness in the face of you. But you only smiled, sliding off the counter, tossing your bra to the side, and leaning into him.

“I know you need me too, baby,” you susurrated against the shell of his ear, your hand falling to his crotch, smoothing over the outline of his cock against his sweatpants. Jun gasped when you gave his balls a squeeze, trailing your fingers back up, pressing them into his slit, already oozing with precum and staining his pants. He felt like melting, like he was Icarus and you were the sun, with the notable exception that your radiance was warm and welcoming. It didn’t burn him, it only made him feel soft, welcome, malleable. He melted at your touch, moulded himself to the shape of you.

Although Jun felt it was very much stating the obvious, he conceded, “I want you so bad.”

You smiled, discarding your panties in a swift motion, before turning around and bending over the surface.

“Then come get me.”

He only stared, transfixed by the way your muscles moved under your skin, how the warm kitchen light of his home cascaded over you, the way your eyes sparkled with mischief when you turned around to smirk at him. Jun’s mind was still fighting with the fact that you were real, you were here, and you were his. You cocked an eyebrow, watching him like a cat watched its supper. When he still continued to stare, your eyes darkened, beckoning him with intensity. You wiggled your ass at him, pushing it back so it grazed his throbbing dick. As you threatened to pull away again, Jun’s hands flew to your hips. You yelped at the sudden strength with which he gripped you, pulling you back against him once more, grinding down against your ass with such verve that your head dropped forward. A long groan escaped you as Jun crowded you against the counter, pushing you down and leaning over your back.

“You need me, huh?”

You nodded your head enthusiastically while meeting his thrusts, moaning his name again and again, and growing more breathless by the second. Jun wanted to tease you, he really did. He wanted to ask you how bad you needed him. He wanted to force you to be more specific, to hear you say how you needed to feel his cock inside you, hitting that spot over and over again. He wanted to make your pretty lips form all those filthy words, say his name, beg for him. But it had been months since he had seen you in person, it felt like an eternity had passed since his skin was last allowed to touch yours, a lifetime since he heard you whimper and moan and pant for him like this. So, he forewent any more teasing. Instead, Jun simply shoved his sweatpants and underwear down his legs, freeing his cock.

You whined at the sound of it hitting his abs, wiggling your ass again and breathing out his name in that way he would never grow tired of. He grinned, sliding his dick through your slick, nipping its tip against your clit, once, twice, three times. So many times that you whimpered, an indistinguishable string of supplications, whines of baby, please please please leaving your lips. Your forehead was pressed against the counter now, as if the cold, hard surface helped ground you in reality while Jun had his way with you.

When, finally, he slipped into you, both of you sighed. You voices mixing in the air of the kitchen that seemed to have been growing thinner by the second. Jun’s breathing was growing ragged, and he could tell you weren’t faring much better than him. He started moving, slowly at first, testing the waters and, yes, possibly also to rile you up a little more. But when you clenched around him, any self-control was thrown out the window. His hands on your lower back were shoving you down against the ice-cold surface, making you hiss. His hips snapping against your ass as he searched for that spot that would make you drool over the marble countertops.

“Fuck… yes! Baby, right there,” you groaned when he found it.

Jun leaned back down over you, his front pressed against your back, his hot breath by your ear, whispered prayers of your name escaping him. He drove into that spot relentlessly, repeatedly until you lost all function of speech, reduced only to swears and his name. Jun mirrored your vocabulary, one hand sneaking around your body to find your clit again and rub punishing circles. With the added stimulation of his hand, the pressure of his weight, and the way his cock was hitting that spongy part inside you again and again, you felt your pleasure crest alarmingly fast.

“Junjunjunjunjun,” you breathed, but, again, he somehow had known before you what was coming. His groans surrounded you, your perception narrowed to just the feeling and sound of him.

“Hold on a little longer, baby,” he breathed, and you barely registered it. Just nodding for the sake of nodding, praying his own release would find him fast.

“Doing so well, baby. So good for me,” he continued, almost to himself, baiting your release even more.

A few agonising, timeless moments passed until, “That’s it, let go. Come for me, baby. Come with me.”

Immediately, you released a sound somewhere between a groan and a whimper, you head falling forward again as your whole body tensed up. Jun followed your example, his head dropping against your shoulder as he drove his cock into you, prolonging both of your releases as much as possible, until the sensitivity forced him to pull out. He remained folded over you, so close that he could feel his cum drip out of you, landing on the kitchen floor with a small splat. The air felt too thin for any movement, so he remained draped over you, his thumb drew circles on your lower back until you returned to him, mumbling his name.

“Are you alright, qīn'ài de?”

You nodded almost imperceptibly, your hair sticking to the nape of your neck. Jun brushed it to the side, leaving a small peck where it had been.

“Nooo,” you whined, “I’m sweaty.”

“I don’t care,” he replied, matter-of-factly, smoothing his hand down your back one last time before peeling himself off you to get some tissue. His heart tore a little at the weak whine you let out in response to his absence.

“Don’t worry, I’m just trying to take care of you.”

You only whined more when he wiped the rest of your combined release from between your legs before also cleaning the floor. He caught your eyes from over your shoulder, smiling softly, and leaving another kiss on your back. After getting rid of the tissue, he pulled you off the counter, wrapping you up in his arms.

“You were amazing. I love you.”

He could hear the smile in your voice when you replied, “So were you, bǎobèi.”

“I can’t believe you’re really here…”

“I missed you something fierce,” you said by way of explanation.

“Me too. I miss you every day. Every hour.”

To his confusion, you smiled warmly at his pout, one hand caressing along the side of his face until it came to rest on his collarbone. You leaned in, lips ghosting against his in a silent promise, “Then let’s make the most of right now.”

Jun grinned, bending down to pick you up, laughing at the surprised yelp you let out.

“What on earth are you doing, Wen Junhui!”

“I think it’s time for a bath.”

“That is not what I was trying to insinuate!”

He wiggled his eyebrows, feeling his heart sore at your scandalised expression. Resting his forehead against yours, his eyes searched for yours, holding their stare for a few moments. With a smile on his lips and in his voice he murmured, “I don’t care what exactly we do in the bath, as long as we do it together.”

[marrkopolo]

A Wise Man Once Said

Precious lost its ring in the scrap yard with no metal detector the lavender pussywillows hide the trolls

Hong Kong wheel of fate UW spinned it first Knights of Templar slaughtered at a mass concert of bloody crimson tide

Tithe on a full moon for 2x the glee The crash of waves against the rocks, like bodies slapping against each other during sex blood shooting through veins Hot heat, sticky, in Iceland together I too, know of these lands

Tax season says the King! blue knots on a tent red food buckets hung like death #four crosses in a foreign land alone is no place to exist

An underwater welder lying on the blue tarp, is like a union of troops led by a zebra.

Flying flags at Disney welcome to the world of water failed regret, emptiness and betrayal tattered flags get left to rot sew it in with the others together and the quilt becomes strong and scintillating

Crush you with your own history headless horseman and halo hair dark horse donuts This is as good as it gets!

Red-lipped lipstick cracked porcelain face You can't hold a candle to this

King of the Hill My pool stick is clean now true Kings swim in the swimming pool together King of the Hill Jack of Spades went with the stolen crown and robots learn to volunteer.

Pledge to a sanitizer salute to a gong beat your chest it's loud and strong Love at first sight or sounds like a good idea Wisdom of the crowd or individual motivation?

A rabbi with the yachts Fortified lamps sees all UFOs, telekinesis and even explosive lingerie. One denarius for a days work Why they get more? Stand while another sits. Then switch roles and you'll see why.

What sees with three eyes? The melatonin-like parental bond, third eye awoken, Moksha.

Insane Luke has a scar red dots that kill. Baldie takes biosphere crown the bald animal is cutting loose again Is doraphilia still fun to you?

I attempt to transform but the tea is too strong my hands have small heart Lying down a tiny raindrop falls into my ear swirling into the cochlea My whole world has changed!

Eczema stealing make-up twice North Face go north Racks of weapons are not enough this time

My mask is old but gold bars had paved my fortunate path …a fortunate path(whispering)

Tik Tok vault one exit is enough The eagle has docked into spray-painted madness. Not to fret I hear a falcon cry Jump when the law is bent it will help you fly

Six shooter Six pack 3 sewers 3 fires Twin-spirit 1 spacesuit

Mountain top king of the hill climb Nepal Hajj pilgrimage princess climbs like a pirate piggyback down the wedding aisle

Opposites attract

One fell to its doom down the abyssal void towards the bottom and a ghost ship lost in the Bermuda Triangle with Pandoras Box Lazarus

Gunpowder in shoes Footprints in the sand Jesus did not tap

Short and tall fat and thin Lookalikes Soundalikes Smellalikes the hunt of touch and taste What double currencies create the ultimate Yin Yang effect? AI said to cure pride and competition, exchange abacus rubik-cubed calculators instead of cash.

Echoes and reverberation voices become lightning WATTS= AMPS X VOLTS

Float your payloads into the troposphere with skinny vertical structures of contained saltwater Heat a planet with a satellite asteroid belt

A call for help QR codes morse code gun flare smoke signal what are your coordinates? R-E-B-O-R-N

Some ancients say gunpowder only made flee then gun made to kill Oil spills from bronze age to silicon chips flood the market cut the mall castle cake in half Zangief on a segway You win.Perfect.

Lawrence Groves copyright©2024

[moonchild1]

AO3 List PT.2

here's part 2 of my favourite bts fics on ao3 ♡ if you have any of your own recommendations feel free to tell me I would love to hear them ♡ some contain smut so no minors do not interact find pt. 1 here...

s- smut a- angst f- fluff

all of btssmutgalore’s work (sadly they aren’t on tumblr anymore)

all of univsa work

all of personasintro's work

roommates with benefits by joonswhistle f s a

↬ You and Namjoon are roommates. You're both really horny one morning. So you come to an understanding:

1. It's not a regular thing.

2. It happens on the couch.

3. Kissing is allowed.

4. Condoms, always.And just like that, you're roommates with benefits

seoul underground by hunniejimins s a ft. jungkook

↬ You're a crime & corruption journalist for one of the most esteemed newspapers in Seoul currently investigating drug trafficking in Hong Kong. A hit is taken out on you and as a twisted stroke of luck, a member of a rival gang inadvertently saves you - Jeon Jungkook. He kidnaps you and brings you to the gang's kingpin, Kim Namjoon, who initially had plans to kill you, but a certain bracelet ends up buying you time. Things only get further complicated when they realize who you are and what you can offer them.

OR

Namjoon and Jungkook both fall in love with you and it's a mess, but monogamy is overrated anyway, right?

Covenant by fringesofsanity f s a

↬ You are betrothed to Kim Namjoon, the heir of a real estate mogul. To say that it was a fairytale romance would be erroneous. You’re instead loped in the sad tale of the rich and melancholy.

Faith by AndrastesChosen f s a

↬ It's time to let yourself believe in someone. You're probably an idiot for it, but you're going to put your faith in this man named Namjoon. (AKA You fall in love with underground rapper Namjoon and make a difficult choice so he can follow his dreams)

Partners by btssmutgalore f s a

↬ As a part of a literature assignment, you get paired up with Kim Namjoon, a guy you’ve never even heard of.

the wedding arrangement by sugalights f s a

↬ You are in love with your best friend, the only man who matters, Kim Seokjin. Unfortunately, he's just gotten engaged to someone who isn’t you. Even more unfortunately, he expects you to help plan the wedding alongside Kim Namjoon, his other best friend and, based on your first meeting, just another judgemental jerk. Putting aside your distaste for the sake of your friend’s happiness, you both set about giving Seokjin the wedding of his dreams. Following a rough and satisfying affair at the caterer’s, you strike an unusual deal: you and Namjoon will be enemies with benefits until the wedding is over. And after six months of wedding planning, you both just might learn that weddings aren’t usually the end, but a brand new beginning.

formula for love by bluesxde f s a

↬ newly single and in the midst of a bitter divorce, with a custody battle thrown in, chemistry professor kim seokjin tries not to fall in love with the new library assistant. and fails, horribly

The Stranger by btssmutgalore f s a

↬ When your plane hits turbulence, you start panicking and tell some of your biggest secrets to the attractive stranger sitting next to you.

Before Your Very Eyes by vyduan f s a ft. myg poly au

↬ After decades of being friends, Y/N finally realizes just how attractive Yoongi and Seokjin are and wonders why she never noticed. Except, Seokjin might be getting back with an ex and Yoongi is a permanent fuckboy. Is Y/N just desperate to get laid or does she love them? (And if she loves them, is she too late?) Oh, and also, THEY WERE ROOMMATES (but there are three beds)

Amalthea by Daechwitatamic s a

↬ You can count on two things in life. One: that your lifelong best friend Minji will always be there for you, in your corner, your brightest star. Two: that you'll never be free from her older brother Seokjin's orbit - the gravitational pull is just too strong.

Paris For A Day by automnesleaves f a

↬ On his last stop of his European tour to spread Korean culture, Kim Seokjin, the South Korean president's son, plans to escape his duties for a day to enjoy the sights of Paris with your help.

In other words: a slight adaptation of Roman Holiday, one of my favorite romantic films.

arranged by obiwrites f s a

↬ If you thought entering an arranged marriage with the person you love would be a dream, you were in for a rude awakening. Jung Hoseok was far from the doting husband you’d dreamed of and most of it could be chalked up to the fact that he was in love with his best friend. And you are without a shadow of a doubt, not her. But what happens when Hoseok starts to realize he doesn’t want you to be her? That there might be more than meets the eye with you?

piece by piece by underthejoon f s a ft seokjin

↬ a collection of drabbles where your love life is muddied up by two men – the one you love and the one that loves you.

tip 143 (for ∞ seconds of love) by minlouvre f s

↬ Even though he is everything you find attractive in a man, your friend and co-worker Jung Hoseok is just exactly that - a friend and co-worker. For some reason, you have never found yourself attracted to him even though all the girls and guys around you go absolutely crazy for him. But that all changes for you one night while scrolling through Heart2Heart, a sex live cam website...

the december of our adulthood by vyduan a

↬ Jimin collapsed all over you and the middle console from his seat in a fit of giggles and did his best to tease a smile back onto your face. “Thanks for picking me up so early on a Saturday morning, Y/N. You’re the best friend a guy could ever have.” Even after all these years, you couldn’t control the dip of disappointment at his words. It wasn’t that you didn’t love being Jimin’s best friend. It was more that you knew you would never be anything more. You grunted in acknowledgment and pushed the sadness down, burying it under years of practice and half truths. You would be content with what you had. You would be satisfied with the love Jimin was willing and able to give. You were not entitled to anything more. It was enough. It was enough. It was never enough.

[supersoftly]

Artist Sanmu Chan was stopped, questioned and taken away by police in Causeway Bay on Monday, the eve of the Tiananmen crackdown anniversary, as he sought to partake in some performance art.

A large police deployment had appeared near Victoria Park, a venue that once hosted mass remembrance vigils.

Dozens of uniform and plainclothes police officers were stationed across the shopping district, concentrated around East Point Road, Hennessy Road and Lockhart Road. An armoured police vehicle was briefly seen parked outside SOGO mall.

HKFP reporters witnessed Chan write the Chinese characters for “8964” with his finger in the air, referencing the date of the 1989 crackdown.

He also mimed pouring wine onto the ground to mourn the dead, per a Chinese tradition, before police moved in.

The Tiananmen crackdown occurred on June 4, 1989 ending months of student-led demonstrations in China. It is estimated that hundreds, perhaps thousands, died when the People’s Liberation Army cracked down on protesters in Beijing.

Over 30 police officers took Chan away for questioning and created a cordon to separate the artist from the media.

He was then taken away in a police vehicle a little before 9:30 pm, in a scene similar to his detention last June on the eve of the crackdown anniversary.

It is unclear if he was arrested. HKFP has reached out to the police for comment.

First anniversary since Article 23

Tuesday will mark the first Tiananmen crackdown anniversary since the city passed domestic security legislation, more commonly known as Article 23.

Police invoked the new law for the first time last week to arrest former Tiananmen vigil organiser Chow Hang-tung and six others over alleged sedition. They stand accused of using an “upcoming sensitive date” to incite hatred against the central and Hong Kong authorities through social media posts. Police made an eighth arrest in connection with the case on Monday. Hong Kong used to be one of the few places on Chinese soil where annual vigils were held to commemorate the people who died in the 1989 crackdown. But police banned the gathering at Victoria Park for the first time in 2020 citing Covid-19 restrictions, and imposed the same ban in the following year.

No official commemoration has been held since the vigil organiser, the Hong Kong Alliance in Support of Patriotic Democratic Movements of China, disbanded in September 2021. Currently occupying Victoria Park – historically the site of Hong Kong’s vigils – is a five-day patriotic carnival organised by 28 pro-Beijing groups.